Quasar
by Kiyuzanova
Summary: In a world five years beyond canon, where quirks of fate entwine, everything has changed and nothing is the same. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**I would like to stress this is an _Alternative Universe_ fanfic. It does not lie in line with canon, it is a different universe. Interestingly enough, a universe written before 13 was subbed - so the only information about Kaito is from the Special Manga, that he is a Numbers Hunter from a different dimension who can stop time - and while the memory of people reeling over the change in location and change in target demographic was still fresh. There's a little trivial backstory for you all.**

**Please, enjoy! ^^**

**Disclaimer:** **I know nothing about uni, I'm still in high school. Also some things will be questionable, no doubt about it, because I suck, so quality not guaranteed.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong>

**BEEEEEEEEEEEP. 7:15 AM.**

Yuma Tsukumo was generally a morning person. But once in a while, he liked to sleep in and just enjoy the peace that came with it. This had been one such day.

Unfortunately, when he fell out of his hammock, all thoughts of sleeping in flew out the window.

**BEEEEEEEEEEEP. 7:20 AM.**

Yuma scowled at the alarm – or, where his alarm would have been. The stack of files in his TO-DO box was moved, a once-damp-now-mouldy newspaper thrown away, revealing the wretched device hidden before. He swiped his palm card across the display.

**7:21 AM. ALARM RESET. HAVE A NICE DAY.**

With a sigh, Yuma retrieved his clothes for the day: a plain green shirt and a pair of white pants decorated with blue flames.

He kicked open the trapdoor before descending the attic's stairs, and the significant change in atmosphere settled immediately. Though the ever-returning cobwebs were cleaned away, it didn't change the bag of takeaway boxes in one corner nor each crack in the skylights' panes. In contrast, the second floor – and the first – had floors vacuumed each week, tables wiped down and bookcases devoid of dust.

A note on the fridge, pinned with a neat, red tile, made him blink. Then the urgent appointment hit him full force.

Five minutes later, with breakfast in mouth and backpack slung over his shoulder, Yuma jumped out of the window. The fire escape shuddered as he landed in a neat crouch, and his hand flung automatically toward his neck for a necklace that no longer hung.

Ten minutes later, the backpack had switched shoulders and the toast was gone. The route to the station was fenced by reflective steel and glass buildings, all virtually identical, an urban jungle disciplined by the power of science and technology. Yuma had a sleek, white D-Gazer snapped over one eye to see the augmented street signs, and somehow managed to check the live timetable data downloading through the network whilst running and short of breath.

Twenty minutes after leaving the house, he scurried off the bus and onto Neo Domino University's grounds. He only paused long enough at the front gates to swipe the key card around his neck, then hurtled past the first green before looping around the amphitheatre.

"Yuma!"

Yuma cycled back a few steps. Takeda Tetsuo grinned at him in a cyan shirt and yellow shorts, leaning on the pillar that his best friend had run past earlier.

"Yo!" Yuma called. "You haven't seen Todoroki around, have you?"

Tetsuo rolled his eyes. "I don't know, maybe he told me to keep an eye out for you?"

"Right. Well, he wasn't at the green. Tell me where he is?"

"Library."

Tetsuo barely had time to finish when Yuma hurried off again, so his sigh went unnoticed.

It was unsurprising when Yuma made it to the library in record time. Sure enough, Todoroki had a booth inside, waiting with arms crossed and eyes drilling through his surroundings. He always seemed to wear a white dress shirt and blue slacks, all arranged as neatly as the gelled antenna in his hair; Yuma tended to wear the same shirt for about five days in a row before throwing it into the wash, and would never admit his sudden spikes of self-consciousness out loud.

Todoroki frowned when he approached. "You're late."

"A D-Wheel and the metro crashed at 4 AM this morning," Yuma said quickly. "There were still delays."

"Delays lasting ten minutes?"

Yuma gave him his best grin. Todoroki didn't buy it.

"It is unlikely it took you ten minutes to find Tetsuo, Yuma," said Todoroki. "In summation, you need to set your alarm earlier."

"Yeah, yeah. What have you got?"

Todoroki held up a laser disk crystal. "You did complete your part?"

"Yeah." Yuma ignored it, reaching into his bag to pull out a sheaf of papers. "Here. You type it up."

"What?"

"Last time I typed it, remember? It took me half an hour."

"We have two minutes, Yuma."

There was a half-shrug, and Yuma gestured to the open laptop feverently. "Start typing!"

Todoroki did so.

In the end it took them three minutes to finish copying Yuma's text, often having to pause and decipher his messy scrawl. Fortunately enough, they were close enough to their next room that they somehow made it inside before the lecturer's arrival.

"You are insufferable," Todoroki said.

Yuma tilted the laptop's screen so the inbuilt camera could get a better view of the hand-drawn diagrams. "You've said that."

"Then I'll say it again."

Before Yuma could come up with a witty comeback, the doors slid open. The lecturer stepped inside, a man in his late thirties with premature grey hair and a nondescript suit. They stood up to bow and pay their respects as they did every morning, and it was only after everyone sat down that Yuma noticed the newcomer to their classroom.

The lecturer scanned the room. "This is Ryoga Kamishiro. He is interested in attending next year, and will join us for the rest of this year to get a feel for the culture."

Ryoga inclined his torso, a bow suggesting unfamiliarity with the action and his violet hair bobbed as he did so. "It is nice to meet you."

"There is a spare seat next to Yuma Tsukumo. Please raise your hand."

With one last half-bow, this time barely perceptible, Ryoga headed in Yuma's direction. Each stride had the tails of his periwinkle-blue dress shirt fluttering between steps. He dropped his bag beside the desk but changed his mind, putting it on top, then sat down without a single word.

Yuma opened his mouth to introduce himself. He never managed a sound, as the lecturer cleared his throat to begin the lesson.

"I expect all of your assignments sent in within the next two minutes. Now we will continue analysing the properties of New Momentum..."

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><p>It was a week since Ryoga's appearance when Yuma managed catch him in a conversation. That day, the newcomer tried to leave the room as soon as the lesson ended, but found the sleeve of his shirt caught under a laptop.<p>

Yuma _knew _that thing would come in handy.

"Move it," Ryoga muttered.

"What—oh, I'm sorry."

Yuma slowly clicked his combination into the numbered lock, feeling the force of Ryoga's glare though he could not see it. A blue light lit up, allowing the lid to be opened, and the sleeve fell free. The action had not taken long, but it took long enough that there was a crowd gathered around the door as the rest of the fifty-member class tried to leave.

"I'm Yuma Tsukumo," he greeted, now that Ryoga couldn't squirrel away.

Ryoga hmmed, disinterested, so Yuma tried again.

"You're into engineering?"

Another hmm, but less congenial.

"Where are you from?"

"Heartland." It was short and crisp, but still an answer.

"I'm from there too! We might have met—how old are you?"

"Nineteen."

Yuma rubbed his chin, a favourite thinking pose of his. "Hmm... No, I don't know any Ryoga Kamishiro. Did you go to Heartland Central?"

There was no opportunity for answer, as Todoroki then approached them.

"Yuma," said Todoroki. "This Sunday at the Main Library, 2:30 PM West Wing. How does that sound?"

With a grin, Yuma gave his assessment partner a thumbs-up. "Great!"

Todoroki nodded, less enthusiastic. "I'll see you, then."

He shot a sideways look in Ryoga's direction before leaving for the door. Yuma, who from that action ended up noticing Ryoga moving away again, quickly brushed past Todoroki and pulled the newcomer into conversation again.

Yuma smiled. "Which school did you go to?"

"South Heartland College."

"I've never heard of it," Yuma replied. He absently waved goodbye to Todoroki as they moved out of the door and split ways, noting that Ryoga, like him, headed for the main station. "What's it like? Is it a private school?"

"Yes."

Instead of waiting at the main station, as Yuma had predicted, Ryoga turned left along the streets to continue walking. Hiding a grimace at having to walk more, but spurred by nothing but sheer boredom and curiosity, Yuma tagged along.

Even though some called him tactless, he knew when to change a topic.

"Where are you staying?"

"Friend's place."

Though the words were perfectly neutral, something about their execution combined with Ryoga's body language made Yuma frown. Ryoga probably tried to hide his actions, but Yuma had been dealing with aloof companions long enough to realise something happened to be wrong. And he knew that, if he didn't pursue the topic further, Ryoga would continue doing whatever he was doing until bad things occurred.

"Where?"

Ryoga must have noticed the change in Yuma's tone, because his eyes darkened. "Around."

"Around where?"

Something about Ryoga seemed bristled. Perhaps it were the narrowed eyes, or the tightly pursed lips, or even the tense lines of his back. But no matter which, Yuma could tell he wasn't going to get an answer unless he rectified the situation.

"What I mean," he said after a few moments of tense silence, "is that I don't want you getting into anything bad."

"Why."

Yuma raised his hands. "Hey, I like you. Not in the gay way," he amended quickly, "but there's something that makes me want to be your friend."

"That's stupid." Ryoga stopped walking. He turned around to stare at him, probably trying to determine his motives. "I'm not someone for you to be friends with."

Uplifted by the most words from Ryoga's mouth that were willingly volunteered, Yuma couldn't help the grin threatening to grow on his face. "That's what the other two said, and we're close. Well, fairly close, anyway." Then he sobered. "But really, Ryoga. If you need a place to stay there's still a heap of room where I live."

He searched in his pocket for a piece of paper and a pen, before writing his address down. Then he handed the slip to Ryoga, who seemed to be looking at it with what might have been interest. Yuma smiled and began heading back to the main station outside the university's campus, but turned around and began walking backwards a few steps away.

"Think about it!" he yelled. "I'll be waiting!"

* * *

><p>When Yuma arrived home the next afternoon, he found Ryoga leaning on the wall outside the door. He wore the same clothes he did on his first day at uni – the periwinkle-blue dress shirt falling over his shoulders, coupled with a pair of worn but typical black jeans a size too large. There were no personal belongings with him, save for the backpack he had around him all the time.<p>

Upon the sound of footsteps, Ryoga turned away from the window at the end of the corridor. Any doubts Yuma had about his offer were gone upon seeing the pride at war in the other's eyes.

He waved, as if Ryoga's presence was a common occurrence. "I didn't expect you so early."

His answer came in the form of a non-committal shrug. Fiddling with the ring of keys attached to his belt by a slim chain, he unlocked the door and swung it open. Then he kicked a door stopper under the gap to increase circulation. Cautious, Ryoga followed after him as he stepped inside. He looked down.

"It's Western-designed," Yuma said to the unspoken question. "No _genkan_, but shoes go in the side niche."

After taking his own shoes off, he glanced around the familiar, deep cerulean walls. The high ceiling and wide hallway made him suddenly feel self-conscious.

"Sorry it's a little big," he added sheepishly. "Like I said, there's a lot of space. Pick any room you want on the second floor; don't go down to the first."

"And you?"

"It's fine – I sleep in the attic."

Ryoga glanced at him as if to determine his words, but by 'second floor', Yuma meant it literally. The apartment complex consisted of twin buildings, one ten storeys high and the other twenty. A bridge connected the two on the seventh. Yuma lived in the shorter one, having the entirety of the top two floors plus the strange attic-like room created by the twin panes of roofing. Whilst the first level was occupied, the second was reserved for guests and the like.

"Costs?" Ryoga asked.

Yuma shrugged. "You'll need to pay for heating, and your share of food."

"Split them," Ryoga said, and Yuma remarked at the sheer business-like tone. "If they're managed they should cost the same."

"They are," he defended.

"I'll pay for the heating. You have an income?"

"I work at the nearby video store, and I look after this place." Ryoga raised an eyebrow, and Yuma elaborated. "I'm just the housekeeper. A friend owns this place but she's globetrotting."

"Then I should leave."

Yuma shook his head violently. "No, it's fine. She's been trying to get me into one of these rooms for ages." His tone turned serious. "I just like the attic."

For a brief moment he could have sworn a flash of humour and disbelief flicker into Ryoga's eyes before being suppressed by the same indifferent demeanour. "Fine. I'll go, then. We'll finish arrangements then."

"Go where?"

"Outside."

He began to walk out the door, never having removed his shoes, but Yuma stopped him.

"Wait—!" When Ryoga turned to look to him, Yuma continued. "Why did you come to Neo Domino?"

"I can ask you the same."

"Stop avoiding the question. Why are you paying just to sit in the class when you don't have a place to stay? You're not even learning anything!"

Ryoga paused, and when he spoke he seemed to choose his words with care. "Heartland isn't as safe as it used to be. This building is closer to Central City, and Neo Domino University is a derivative of the Public Security Maintenance Bureau."

With one last look – _figure it out for yourself _– Ryoga left the room.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Yuma woke to the sound of the doorbell. In a normal situation, this would not be a problem. But unfortunately, in this instance, the doorbell referred to the bell hung behind the door. Large, thick and heavy, it wouldn't ring whenever the door was opened; it chimed loud claps of thunderous energy.<p>

Yuma fell out of the hammock – something happening far too often lately – and slowly dragged himself downstairs. It didn't take him until the doorway on the first floor to find out what had happened. From his position on the top of the huge, curved stairway that connected the two, he could already see Ryoga had been responsible.

And Ryoga was paying for it, buried under an impossibly large number of cats.

It took Yuma a good fifteen minutes to shoo most of them away, but the sound of the bell only called them back. So he did the best he could, and somehow managed to free Ryoga and get rid of the few that were on him before the bell stopped tolling. When free, they wove around all the moving bodies and swishing tails until they made it onto the stairway and the second floor overhang.

"What," Ryoga growled, hair dishevelled but clothes thankfully untorn, "was that?"

Yuma sensed an impending eruption. "My friend likes cats."

He was greeted with an incredulous stare at the understatement, and shrugged. Ryoga closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. A minute or so later, he glanced toward the door they entered yesterday. Yuma didn't need to look to determine the unspoken question.

"She removed the handle inside the other door to make sure everyone goes out that one, and gets to meet them. The way you came in is so I don't disrupt their sleep if I get back late."

"Ridiculous."

Yuma shrugged again. "She's giving me a place to stay, so I'm not complaining."

"You can remove it."

"She doesn't like that." Yuma made a face. "And I can take it off but I can't put it back, because only a cat can."

He looked around for a clock before finding one on the wall. Sunday, 9 AM. Well, he needed to buy more groceries, and could just eat breakfast outside...

"You'll need to use the fire stairs under the window to get to a lower floor," he added. "If you give me a second to change, I'll show you."

Ryoga stared at him again, and Yuma nodded. There would be a lot to get used to in the household.

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><p>The Community Tower of Neo Domino City, located within one of the hubs, stood sixty storeys high – new, and taller than a few of its surrounds. It bore all the hallmarks of a new structure, with walls of polished steel and highly reflective glass. Its fairly standard, rectangular build was made unique by design with the addition of a shaved corner; enough to contrast it from every other building, but not enough that there no longer existed room for a helipad on top.<p>

It came about through the City's growing population crisis. The higher cost of land and the additional taxes placed upon the everyday usage of Momentum meant that community groups found themselves short of funds. In an attempt to solve this, the Public Maintenance and Security Bureau opted to construct a structure dedicated solely toward communal activities.

Yuma headed to one specific entrance of the Tower at five to two that afternoon. That entrance opened to a small room containing only the doors to a pair of elevators. He pressed the call button to find the elevator on the left waiting. His reflection in the mirror watched him as he stepped inside and travelled to the only other floor he could.

Exactly forty seconds later, the doors opened to the fifty-fifth floor, the first of five floors that made up Neo Domino's Main Library. It took a while longer for Yuma to get to the fifty-seventh floor, the highest permitted by the general public, but he still made it with a little over half an hour before Todoroki's arranged arrival.

With an uncanny familiarity, Yuma automatically headed for the specific aisle he knew at the back. Instead of books, the library used electronic tags, so he activated his D-Gazer to read the titles and summaries. Finding a few he wanted, he scanned them with his library card and took them to one of the many study tables available.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked.

Yuma jumped at Todoroki's appearance. He checked his watch – somehow, thirty minutes had passed without him realising. Todoroki didn't seem to notice, surprised by the amount of electronic tags Yuma had plugged into his D-Pad's laptop extension and the sheets of papers around him.

"Oh," Yuma answered. "Trying to figure out how I can backdate the firmware on the D-Pad."

"You can just search that."

"Not for Seto Kaiba's era, you can't."

Todoroki frowned. "Seventy years? That's impossible. You'd have to change the operating system as well." He snapped on his own D-Gazer so he could read the titles of Yuma's books without having to take them out of the laptop and squint near the barcode. "Pro—Yuma, you're learning how to program computers?"

The sheepish expression remained on Yuma's face even as he answered. "Yeah. So what?"

"Yuma..."

"Huh?"

"Your grades used to be terrible, you drop out of school for half a year and now you're taking Engineering and Physics at a place like Neo Domino U." Todoroki shook his head. "Just... in summation, you confuse me, Yuma."

"I'm interested," Yuma said simply, though there was a slight edge in his tone. "I can be interested, right?"

"Never mind. But, about Kamishiro..." For a brief moment, Todoroki hesitated. "You should... stay away from him."

Yuma blinked. "He's not that bad. I mean, he didn't act too bad when I used all the hot water last night."

"What?"

"Well I'm not used to two people, and I forgot the limitations so the computer auto-locked access to hot water after I had a shower and—"

Todoroki pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's staying at your house?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"I'll tell you this once, Yuma. South Heartland College is a school for delinquents."

"Delinquents?" he repeated. "No, Ryoga isn't..."

Shaking his head again, Todoroki placed his laptop on the table. He took a seat, and Yuma sensed the change of topic without needing to be told. Any papers they didn't need were whisked away, and the electronic tags containing Yuma's books were borrowed before he stored both away. The signatures of the D-Gazers were locked into Todoroki's laptop, and Todoroki pulled open a file as they set to work.

"About this bit here..."

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><p><strong><em>genkan - <em>The flat bit of ground in Japanese houses situated right behind the doorway, in which you remove your shoes and swap them out for slippers.**

**Please review? :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

There were most definitely some outside forces intervening, Yuma decided, when he was woken up at 2 AM. But unlike the day before, the doorbell had not been responsible. Instead it had been the rapid shaking of his shoulders, far off but far too close talking in his ear, and the feel of a cold breeze on the back of his exposed neck.

Yuma figured he should have pieced the clues together before he lifted his head off the workbench, hitting something – or someone. When he opened his eyes, he found someone standing there with a hand over one eye.

"You need to cut your hair," the person growled, glaring at what was most certainly Yuma's red antennae.

Even though he realised this, it took a second for Yuma's eyes to focus. But the almost unnatural blonde-green hairstyle was unmistakable, as was the crystal blue eye that pierced through the darkness. The only working window, opened behind the other, quickly explained the reason for the chill.

"Kaito!" Yuma exclaimed. Then realising the time, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I didn't expect you back."

A scoff. "Why is there someone sleeping in my room, Tonma?"

"Eh?" He froze.

Ryoga!

Kaito must have noticed the sudden change of expression, because his eyes narrowed. Yuma smiled sheepishly. Before he could defend himself, Ryoga's voice sounded from under the trapdoor – the _open _trapdoor.

"I know you're there, thief."

Oh hell no. This was _not _happening.

Yuma sidled around Kaito toward the trapdoor and saw Ryoga standing beneath him. As Ryoga flicked the metal bar between his hands in a way that suggested experience with the weapon, he couldn't help but recall Todoroki's warning. Not even the comical pair of yellow flannel pyjamas (borrowed reluctantly – a size too small) could change that impression.

Eyes narrowing at Yuma's appearance, Ryoga's expression turned dark. "I won't fall for that."

"No—ah, no!" Yuma exclaimed. "Kaito—Ryoga, Kaito's a friend of mine. I'll come down and explain."

The scowl remained on Ryoga's face, but he did step back so Yuma could descend. The metal bar remained in a two-handed grip, though that firmed after Yuma coaxed Kaito down as well.

"This is Kaito Tenjo, Ryoga, he's a friend." Yuma said. "And Kaito, this is Ryoga—"

"I can introduce myself," Ryoga snarled. "Kamishiro – Ryoga Kamishiro."

Yuma couldn't see it, but he felt the air twinge with Kaito's changing temper. Rather than snap out, though, Kaito lifted his chin and hmmed.

This set Ryoga on edge, and the metal bar twitched warningly. "Why the hell do you think it's a good idea to sneak into my room?"

"It is not _your_ room," Kaito said. "When I am not away on business, it is _my _room."

There was no warning when Ryoga swung his weapon, save for the brief, imperceptible tightening of his jaw. But in the next instant, there was definitely a flash of surprise when Yuma appeared between the two. The bar now rested in his hands, and Ryoga's initial momentum caused him to overbalance.

"What—"

"Enough!" Yuma called. He threw the metal bar away into a corner, where it clattered before rolling to a stop. "Ryoga, Kaito, it's not either of your rooms because I'm just the _housekeeper!_ _All _the rooms on the second floor are free, Kaito, and Ryoga only happened to choose yours by accident."

He glared at each of them, but soon sighed. "Ryoga, go back to sleep. I'll arrange things."

Ryoga didn't move at first, and in the tense atmosphere it seemed as if he would shout back. His eyes flashed from Kaito's disinterested expression to Yuma's tired one. There it lingered, as if it were his first time seeing lines that could only be achieved through a consistent lack of sleep.

When Ryoga left the room, Yuma couldn't help but fall into a bad slouch. With eyes threatening to close any second, he shuffled to the corner with the metal bar. He picked it up and weighed it in his hands, eyeing the slight dents marring the surface.

"Why trust a person who brings a weapon into your home?" Kaito asked.

Yuma glanced over to see Kaito leaning to the side, both arms crossed with the tails of his trenchcoat tickling the wooden shelf; a sign of wealth in a realm dominated by harsh glass and steel. The large window nearby – the alternative exit used for jumping onto the fire escape – let an icy glow creep into the edges of the dark fabric, the effect far too perfect to have been contrived through natural means.

"He didn't bring it in," Yuma defended. "He couldn't have."

"You still doubt it." When Yuma answered with silence, Kaito huffed. "If I weren't here you'd have more than a small fracture, thinking you can just jump in the way with no plan."

Idly, even as the words were said, Yuma was inspecting the weapon.

"No – if you weren't here this wouldn't have happened in the first place," he corrected. "I didn't think you cared about the rooms since you never really wanted one."

The air then sparked as Kaito grew annoyed. That action made it hard to comprehend how nobody else guessed the nature of his true powers. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, and in one swift motion he threw it in Yuma's direction. Yuma caught it neatly between two fingers with the grace of a duelist.

"Don't assume," Kaito said, voice edged with a dangerous tone. "But so long as you keep your agreement, Tonma, I don't care. Take it."

"I never stop thinking about the agreement, Kaito. Thanks for the card – I need it, so I'll keep it. Will you be staying here?"

"Initially, yes. But that guy..." He frowned. "Tonight I'll return to the prince."

Yuma sighed – only three minutes had passed, yet the animosity between both Kaito and Ryoga was quickly growing into something he couldn't handle. "Sure. Whatever."

He reached into his own pocket; one hidden within the seam of his jacket. From it came a clear pane of plastic approximately the same size as the cards they exchanged. The small series of datachips etched into the centre told otherwise.

Illuminated briefly by the moonlight, the cheque card passed between their hands.

"How close," Kaito asked, though it did not sound like a question.

"Not close enough," Yuma said. "Unless I miraculously hit something soon..."

Kaito frowned, but nodded. "Very well." He flipped the cheque card in a quick inspection of its contents, before placing it into his Extra Deck box. "This will be sufficient for the time being, but I suggest you hope for that miracle."

If it were not for the time they spent around each other, Yuma would have missed the subtext. _You must hurry. Time is running out._

"I will." he replied. "Have a safe trip."

Kaito nodded, once, then slid the window open and disappeared.

* * *

><p>Neo Domino City was a city where buildings always gleamed and shone with eternal, silver youth. If there were any major advances in technology, they had it. If there were any improvements to be made in regards to public service, they were done. If there ever happened to be anything that could mar public image, it was quickly disposed of. All these factors meant that Neo Domino was known as one of the key major cities of Japan.<p>

Ryoga did not need short, sly Tokunosuke to tell him the flip side would be equally as worse.

There were many things the Public Security Maintenance Bureau could fix in order to gain favour. Overpopulation was not one of them. People could not be shooed out once they made themselves at home in the City's advanced society. The government could only control the influx of citizens, but there would always be illegal means of entry.

Ryoga knew. He'd used one of them.

The Bureau had amassed a large amount of debt starting from the string of disasters from Yusei Fudo's era, and that amount only increased with a few recent earthquakes. Taxes were raised, of course, to ensure the continuation of all services at peak capacity. In succession, land costs rose and buildings grew taller until any buildings lower than five storeys were scattered and rare, even in the Satellite. Even Momentum, the eternal power source controlled by the government, grew so rapidly in costs that D-Wheel sales dropped by sixty percent within two years.

As a result, KaibaCorp — exchanged hands enough for it to no longer having a link to the original Kaiba family since Mokuba Kaiba's son died in a freak accident — revolutionized the augmented technology the City used as replacement. The popularity of street duels fizzled due to its excessive usage of pricey Momentum, even with low-power AR used instead of Solid Vision.

Now the only regular instances of Solid Vision existed during duel tournaments at the Kaiba Dome alone, the tracks along the New Daedalus Highways were no longer used except in the rarest of occasions.

Ryoga stopped all trains of thought in his tracks, and once again tried to concentrate on the lecturer in the room. He succeeded for all of three seconds before drifting into thought again.

The growing debt had been the only reason he was allowed to take a 'trial' period in Neo Domino University, as the Bureau had grown desperate enough that they were calling as much money in as possible from all their sources of income. Neo Domino University, Rex Godwin's Bureau-run solution to a skills shortage, had been hesitant in setting up the program but did cave in as a result.

The lecturer changed his topic, talking about some Sartre or other and pointed the other students to an assignment Ryoga hadn't been around for.

The new trial periods in the university lasted ten days, in which he would be placed in one class and allowed to follow them around without needing any prerequisites as he wasn't strictly attending. Fortunate for him, because he didn't have the knowledge in physics nor advanced mathematics he would have needed thus far. Unfortunately, he found himself stuck in Philosophy rather than some other subject due to the bad timetabling of Engineering Common: Advanced.

The class he met Yuma Tsukumo in.

Ryoga couldn't help the scowl that threatened to appear every time the man crossed his mind. A much as he wished, it was not a scowl of hate or annoyance. Moreover, it tended to be the scowl no one but Ginji had been able to bring out from him before. He didn't know what it was about Tsukumo that made him feel so close, whether it be the unconditional trust or extreme generosity, and though both had been within reason they were still far more than Ryoga had been given before in his life – _ever since—_

That thought went no further. He gave up on the lecture and forced a change of subject, one that came too easily: Kaito Tenjo.

Tenjo. One of the most heck-irritating people that could have ever possibly existed. Everything about that slick, barely-wrinkled trenchcoat-donning smugly-smirking guy rubbed him the wrong way. The scowl the very name induced was far beyond the scale of irritation – if anything, the mere mention of the name would spark another destructive streak in the Old Ryoga.

Now it just pissed him off.

Tsukumo knew Tenjo. Even so, Ryoga couldn't help but like Tsukumo; dare he admit it. Neither had met the other before, so there was no chance in hell of a stupid shojo manga-style 'accidental meeting of destiny' and then the such same 'destiny' bringing them together again. Tsukumo, though kind, knew the limitations and boundaries Ryoga kept up in his life. Tsukumo could somehow tell if a conversation was about to set him off and change the topic accordingly; Tsukumo could somehow _see_the invisible boundaries many had dived through and skirt around them instead.

Tsukumo kept his nose out of Ryoga's business. Freaking Kaito Tenjo didn't.

There had been an unspoken agreement – neither was to enter the other's room without permission. Tsukumo began it the morning he knocked on Ryoga's open door, and Ryoga paid his respect back in return. But Tenjo—Tenjo had the nerve to _slam_the door open as if he owned the place.

_Kaito-_muthaflipping_-Tenjo_.

Tsukumo liked Tenjo, though, a small part of him pointed out. Ryoga shut it up immediately. But the damage was done; bits of doubt still remained.

Inconsistencies.

Tsukumo talked a lot, almost constantly, but sometimes he would say something innocuous that hinted at far more than it needed to. When Ryoga had warned him about the two being friends, Tsukumo seemed amused.

_"That's what the other two said."_

The dam broke and the inconsistencies began to build up. When he didn't work, Tsukumo frequently kept to the attic for long periods, Ryoga always having to call him whenever meals fell under his charge. The mood swings between happy-go-lucky and serious – warning, even. The lack of sleep though he would always return to his room at reasonable times.

But mostly, the incident a few days ago with the metal bar. The metal bar he normally kept with him, but Tsukumo approached him when he woke that he disposed of it. Though, the way he'd obtained it...

Ryoga knew what he saw. Tenjo had only been two steps away. Tsukumo had been too far to do anything at all. One moment, when Ryoga lunged forward with weapon in hand, Tsukumo's eyes flashed in surprise. Then the very next thing he knew, Tsukumo stood between them.

Somehow, the bar had exchanged hands in that hundredth—no, that thousandth of a second and Tsukumo had moved two feet in an instant.

Tenjo knew. Ryoga saw it in his eyes at that time, though the other never moved. And whatever had happened, Tsukumo also knew, because he had been the one responsible for taking the weapon at that time.

Ryoga scowled, and it finally appeared on his face. He hated mysteries.

He would figure out the events on his own, even if it was the last thing he ever achieved.

* * *

><p>Sitting at the glass table in the room that served as their dining room, Ryoga found he no longer blinked an eye when a few thumps sounded from the hallway. More than likely it happened to be Tsukumo as he landed from the attic, or his running as he fell late from oversleep. This instance turned out to be all of the above as the door to the dining room opened and Tsukumo stepped inside.<p>

As he passed through, a shortcut for the kitchen, Ryoga did spare a glance for the black garbage bag in the other's hands. It looked surprisingly full, and though he never actually visited the attic he spent a moment musing on how the trash got up there.

Ryoga placed his chopsticks down onto the empty bowl, where they landed with a soft _chink_. Before he met Tsukumo, he never would have had the time to think such trivial thoughts. He picked up his plates and also headed for the kitchen.

He found Tsukumo inside, wiping the marble counters down. A dustpan and broom were near him, whilst the black garbage bag sat beside the bin.

"Cathy's coming back today," Tsukumo said without needing to be prompted. "She'll be here at two thirty."

Ryoga checked the clock just as he reached the sink. 14:22.

"I know, I know," Tsukumo added. "Ten minutes. But this is the only place left and it's always the worst—Kaito! There you are!"

The scowl clicked into place when Ryoga spotted Tenjo entering the other door. If it were not for Tsukumo and that strange sense of perception, he never would have noticed.

Tenjo didn't even look at either of them as he headed for the fridge. "What is it, Tonma?"

"I called you last night, but you didn't answer."

"No reception."

Tsukumo sighed. Seeing he wouldn't be interrupted again, Tenjo took a bottle of water and then swept out of the room.

Ryoga's mouth twitched as he placed the now-clean bowl back in the drawer and prepared to leave the room as well. That Tenjo never got easier to be around, even though neither would see the other for more than ten minutes each day.

"I'm sorry about Kaito, Ryoga."

Turning around, Ryoga saw that Tsukumo moved onto dusting the floor. He moved along the red and white checkerboard tiles with efficient precision, never lingering too long in one location for extended periods of time. _Why does he live here_, Ryoga wanted to ask, but something held him back.

Instead he said, "He's also allowed to stay here, as am I."

A brief, small smile flitted across Tsukumo's mouth, gone soon enough for it to be an illusion. "He's been here for a while. I think Cathy's taken a liking to him."

Ryoga didn't know what to say. Tsukumo smiled. "You know, the real—"

The two were interrupted by the sound of an obnoxiously loud chime, and a chorus of meows.

"—that'll be the doorbell."

He used a foot to nudge the dustpan aside before leaving through the other exit. A few seconds after he disappeared, he poked his head through the doorway.

"Ryoga, are you coming or not?"

In the end there hadn't been much of a choice, as Tsukumo literally _dragged _the other out of the room and down the hallways. The two stopped at the overhang beside the giant stairway, and from his position Ryoga could see the front door.

...and the _insane _number of cats gathered there.

Ryoga never asked how many cats there were. The most Tsukumo had volunteered came to about fifty-six, when he'd been complaining about the speed in which they ate.

There were definitely more than fifty-six cats.

In hindsight, it made sense. Of the apartment complex, the house spanned everything from the ninth floor and up. He and Tenjo were the only people on the tenth floor, Tsukumo taking the attic as his own. That meant the entire ninth floor – or first floor, if he were only counting the house and not the rest of the building – was left unaccounted for.

Beside him, Tsukumo waved. "Cathy!"

In the largest pile of cats, Ryoga stared as one of them seemed to lift a paw and wave back. Then his eyes focused through the wriggling bodies to see the paw was actually a glove. The other glove appeared and re-arranged the cats clinging to the rest of them until her head was free, sans a grey cat resting on her hair.

Then he saw sharp green eyes look up toward the overhang, and realised the grey cat _was_her hair.

"Yuma!" Cathy exclaimed, and even her wide smile seemed to be a catty smirk.

She dislodged the rest of the cats, and Ryoga saw the rest of the cat-related parahernalia in her outfit. A tail curved around tight-fitting trousers, decorated to mimic the back legs. Twin hairclips became cat ears, and a pair of thin glasses were perched on her nose. A corset and slim vest kept her modest, though the sheer amounts of lace did nothing to support the idea.

Cathy skitted up the steps before giving Tsukumo a tight hug, one that was reciprocated to some extent.

"How was your trip?" Tsukumo asked.

"_Purr_fect! Nyan, I saw so many things you'd enjoy! Oh," she added, "I found a letter for you."

"Thanks, I haven't checked for three days."

He took the letter, glanced at the return address before folding it twice and then placed it into a pocket. Cathy didn't seem to notice nor care, as she turned to Ryoga and smiled. "Another stray, Yuma?"

Before any of them could correct her, a disgruntled voice made it first. "I am not a stray."

Ryoga scowled when Tenjo once again appeared without notice. Completely ignoring the point, Cathy waved a hand.

"Of course not, Kaito. How's Haruto, nyan?"

Tenjo glared. "Don't concern yourself with him. Tonma, I'm going."

There were no chances to protest as he hopped onto the railing. Then he launched off the overhang onto the first floor, landing with an enviable grace. Disregarding the doorbell entirely, he simply opened the door and walked out, leaving loud chimes in his wake.

"Geez, Yuma." Ryoga looked back to see Cathy leaning forward, giving Tsukumo a petulant pout and a rather nice view. "You still haven't introduced your new friend."

The rather nice view was ignored. "Oh, right. Cathy, this is Ryoga Kamishiro. Ryoga already knows who you are."

Cathy detached herself from Tsukumo and walked over to Ryoga. Back arched and tail swishing, she stared up at him. Ryoga tried to look away because he really _didn't need this!_, but only found a snickering Tsukumo before one of Cathy's claws tilted his head back around.

"I like him," she said, a few awkward moments later. "He's cute. Where's he from, Yuma?"

"Heartland."

"Nya~n; same place as you, huh?" She gave Ryoga an odd, sideways look. "I suppose I can always sell the complex and move if all the pretty guys are there."

"The complex?" Ryoga asked.

Cathy gave a sound Ryoga categorised as a shriek, but judging by the expression on her face it should have been a squeal. "Yuma didn't tell you? These two buildings are both mine."

When Ryoga turned to face Tsukumo, the other turned away just as fast.

"I'll take that as a no!" Cathy exclaimed. Then she clapped her hands. "O-K! Time for Cathy's _Purrrr_fect Kitty-Kitty tour!"

* * *

><p>When Ryoga stepped onto the campus that evening, he'd long decided never to take a tour ever again. Cathy's idea of a 'tour' equated more along the lines of 'shopping', as the taller building of the complex housed more commercial services. When she ran out of stores there, the fact that she'd forgotten to take her luggage was the only thing stopping her from calling for a taxi and moving onto another. And another.<p>

The only thing that could possibly have consoled him was knowing Tsukumo had been dragged along.

As a consequence, the lesson he sat in – what was it? Design? – was no longer as pleasant as it would have been, both for him and those close enough to feel his bad mood. When he left the room as the session closed, a girl ran up to him. Her oversized, sunflower-print robes hitched because of the movement, gathering around the straps of her odd, purple backpack.

"Hey!" She exclaimed from under the brim of her oversized hat, revealing thick glasses. "I heard you liked books."

Ryoga only shot her a glare and ignored her. He kept walking, forcing the far shorter girl to hop in order to keep up.

She tried again. "Have you heard of the Laevatein series? I think you'll find it relatable."

He couldn't help but narrow his eyes. The next glance he sent her was questioning, but he wouldn't acknowledge her yet.

"It's about a shark," she continued. "A shark who left the waters of his homeland and decided to explore the outside world."

_Knew it._

"Perhaps," Ryoga said. "So?"

'She' smirked. "The shark finds two friends along the way – a catfish and her little shrimp. Remember?"

He nodded, suppressing the amusement that threatened to appear. Because he had a companion with him, Ryoga didn't stop at the main station outside the campus as usual. So instead he kept walking, an endless amount of tall buildings, neon lights and the occasional glow of Momentum rising to meet him; a typical street at nighttime in Neo Domino City. The 'girl' continued on beside him.

"Did you know there's a sequel coming in about a week?"

"Oh?"

"I hear it's about the shark angering the spirits of the earth and the ocean, who then seek revenge."

Ryoga paused in his steps and shot the 'girl' a sideways look. "How likely?"

"You know me." 'She' tilted her head up so their eyes met, before pulling down the glasses and grinning again. "My sources are always good."

Ryoga nodded and started walking again, and 'she' hurried to catch up. They walked silently for another minute whilst he mulled over the information.

"And the flip side?" he asked, finally.

"Ah~ ura-ura," 'she' sung, "this is still _my _repayment, no?"

The two approached a crossroads, and 'she' stepped into the turn. "Good luck," 'she' said in English, giving a quirky two-fingered salute, before disappearing along the way.

Ryoga stared at the retreating figure, before shaking his head. Tokunosuke always had a strange sense of humour.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review. :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Language warning! (Not that you care, I guess.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three:<strong>

"Hi, would you be interested in—"

The businesswoman brushed past without sparing him a glance. Yuma sighed once again; he couldn't give up so long as he had fliers remaining. Preoccupation with other matters had been responsible for the loss of his job at the video store, and despite her inherited fortune and the consistent income her parents created, he needed some way to pay Cathy back for all she did.

If Ryoga could do it somehow, so could he.

Yuma turned up his charm when another person approached. "Hey there, Cadical is offering five percent off prepaid mobile plans—"

"No thanks," the man muttered, disregarding the flier altogether.

With a sigh, Yuma adjusted his cap once again. The stupid thing disagreed with his preferred hairstyle, and the distinct possibility of having skewed antennae for the rest of his life only rose with every hour on the job. The cheap top, emblazoned with the company's blue and white decal, scratched at his underarms even though he'd worn one of his normal shirts underneath, making the job a whole lot harder to deal with.

The metro station positioned in Neo Domino City's Central Hub certainly was a good location in theory, due to the high volume of passengers that entered and exited each day. Theory tended to not work once put into practice, but Yuma had no choice but to slug it out until he received his pay.

Three and a half bundles to go, and counting.

"Hey, Yuma!"

Yuma looked toward his partner, a man with ordinary black hair and a face forgettable beyond reason. "Yeah, Taichi?"

"It feels like I've only given away eight. You?"

"Around ten or so."

Taichi barely had time to even groan, as a sudden flow of traffic appeared. The two were off handing out fliers again, each searching for whatever charm they could find in order to do so without losing the rest of the day.

"I wish we could just throw these," Taichi commented a small while later. "It'd make everything easier."

Wordlessly, Yuma raised the stack in his hands. He tapped the coupon attached to the last one, bringing attention to the small one-centimetre gold disk embossed under the logo; the cheap tracking chip. As soon as he did so, however, another crowd began moving past and their jobs called again. This crowd lasted about twice as long as the previous, probably trains from two lines both unloading at once, only hindering their conversation further.

By the time another lull came by, Taichi looked bursting with excitement.

"Did you see the poster for the National Duel Championships on the back of that bus?"

"No." There had been a bus? "So? It's not like it doesn't happen every year."

Taichi stared at him in a way that seemed deeply unsettling. "What. _Everyone _looks forward to the National Championship."

"I'm not 'everyone', then."

"But anyway," Taichi added, as if he'd agreed, "this year it's being held in some place called Heartland. You heard of it?"

"Yeah. It's my hometown."

"Really? Awesome."

"Oh. I don't get why you think this is such a big deal."

"Duels _are _the big deal! Momentum's so expensive that this is the only time we get to see these kinds of things!" Completely disregarding the stupid uniform and cap, Taichi posed with fliers still in hand. "I so want to enter, don't you?"

Yuma shrugged. "Nah. I've had enough of cards to last me a lifetime."

Once again, as if Yuma somehow committed the greatest sin in the world, Taichi's stare bored holes through his skull. A well-timed crowd spared him from suffering under it for long, and the two returned to work.

"Sweet!" exclaimed Taichi, when they were alone once again. "Two-thirds left. Then I'm going home and reworking my deck, yeah—my Dragunities are going to rock!"

When Yuma didn't answer, pre-occupied with the dilemma of undoing seventy years worth of advancements to his D-Pad, Taichi took it as confirmation to continue.

"Leyvaten is my favourite, of course, but it's so expensive. Hey, Yuma, you have a deck, right?"

"Eh?" He blinked twice, before answering. "Yeah. Sure."

"What is it?"

Shrug. "Some random cards from five years ago or so. Nothing special."

"Well, whatever. I bet they can't beat my amazing Legionnaire-Aklys combo. Man, it took me ages to get Aklys like you wouldn't believe..." Taichi trailed off, lost within his thoughts. Then he shook his head to himself and continued. "You got any combos? Fusions? Synchros? Anything?"

"Huh? Well, an Xyz or two..."

Taichi leapt forward. Somehow, he simultaneously stuffed the rest of his fliers in a pocket and gripped Yuma's shoulders in the same action. It derailed each of Yuma's trains of thought, nonwithstanding his distracted answer, and the furious shaking that followed had those trains disappear into thin air.

"Two Xyz. You're _joking_. They're only the most expensive types of cards out there!" He rambled on to himself and never gave Yuma an opportunity to answer. "I mean, Fusions and Rituals are cheap because they burned your hand. Synchs dropped when Momentum went up. Xyz're the cheapest to run and still good so they're more expensive." Taking this as an appropriate moment to breathe, his expression contorted in frustration. "If you're rich enough to buy Xyz, why are you handing out fliers?"

Yuma nudged the hands off and glanced away.

"They're not mine." Judging by the slow increase of people, another rush would begin. "Let's get back to work."

* * *

><p>Yuma supposed he should have noticed the signs, and known something was wrong. Ryoga spent less time socialising, either remaining in his room or leaving for several hours without giving explanation. He never seemed to remain coherent for more than three sentences at a time, and always glanced around him warily even whilst in Cathy's home. In his defence, Yuma had been equally as distracted and never thought to pursue the matter further.<p>

Only Cathy and her cats remained the constant in their strange household, especially with Kaito gone. And Cathy not once asked.

But that day, Yuma and Ryoga were on their way back to the house. A fortunate instance of scheduling from the office meant both their classes were on at similar enough times. Though Yuma's finished half an hour earlier, his detour to the computering department to finish his D-Pad's new configuration meant the two of them left at around the same time.

On the path to the main station outside campus, Ryoga froze. Yuma hadn't been looking, waving goodbye to Tetsuo at the time but he peripherally sensed the action nonetheless. He'd just opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when Ryoga put his backpack onto the ground.

"He was right," he murmured.

Yuma barely heard him as his lips moved little and the sound of his rummaging overshadowed any words. "What?"

"We're being followed. Don't look, they'll know."

He'd only glanced around to try and verify Ryoga's words, but the warning of the mysterious _they _prevented him from moving any further. Yuma turned back to Ryoga for more information in the most natural action he could, seeing him place something into his pocket and re-shoulder his backpack.

His expression was enough to say that no more information would be proffered.

"Let's walk partway today," Ryoga offered, once they'd stepped out of the grounds. "There's a place you might find interesting."

Yuma caught the subtext. "Okay. Let's go."

The two passed through several streets that Yuma recalled vaguely but would still get lost in, a side-effect of frequent trips via public transport. Ryoga had no such problem navigating, and though they walked side-by-side Yuma only followed his lead. At one point they must have fazed into the areas between each hub, where the streets were more unkempt. Scuffs in the concrete and several repainted areas marked locations where illegal dueling fields were once drawn, and judging by the number it once ran rampant.

They entered a side street situated between two buildings. The absence of a marked road brought the term 'alley' to mind, yet there were former signs of life still in existence hinting more toward a shopping district. Several window-fronts and doors faced toward them, either long worn or long gone. Wires were threaded from one side to another and Yuma could imagine flags and colourful lights wound around, once suspended above people's heads.

Ryoga stopped and turned around, facing the entrance they came in from.

"Show yourselves," he said, simply.

Soft chuckling proceeded his words, faint echoes bouncing off the walls. Two figures walked into the opening, both heavyset, but the man on the left had more muscle mass and darker skin. Dark dreadlocks fell over the left man's bleached eyebrows, and the heavy chains wrapped around his forearms set splatters of reflected light in every direction. In contrast, the man on the right had a crew cut and a tailored white suit, both trimmed with dashes of red. A pair of brown sunglasses and several silver necklaces completed the picture.

"Well, well," Suit-man drawled, once they were five feet away. "Look what the shark brought in, bro."

Ryoga tensed, and his eyes narrowed. "Rikuo. Kaio."

"Hey, he remembers us," Suit-man crowed. "Wanna see if he remembers any more?"

Dreadlocks-guy cracked his knuckles. "Gladly."

"Mummy's not here to save you now," Suit-man added, taking his sunglasses off and polishing them on his shirt. "'cause she's dead. Serves the slut right."

The two chuckled again. "Bitch thought she could take the Laevatein from under Pa's nose," Dreadlocks-guy said, "but one look at us an' our crew and she was—"

"_Shut the fuck up!_"

Yuma glanced across to see Ryoga leaning forward. He was in an uncomfortable position with legs twisted inward. Both arms flung behind him and clawed at air, as if he were trying to drag himself back. Ryoga's eyes were unfocused, the pupils contracted, and his jaw kept twitching as did the rest of the muscles in his face.

"Damn you!" Ryoga spat. "Damn you freaks to _hell!_"

He lunged.

Yuma didn't know how he did it, but he found himself holding Ryoga back. Somehow his feet had moved fast enough to get in the way, and now Ryoga could only push against him. Every ancient instinct in him prickled at the fact that he had his back to the enemy, but Yuma forced himself to stay.

"Ryoga," he said, voice pitched low so that it wouldn't travel. "Listen to me."

"Move," Ryoga growled.

"No." Yuma forced the other to stare into his eyes – he would get his point across, so _goddamn _he would get his point across. "I don't know why they know you, but don't listen to them. I'm the one they want, so get out of here."

A strange surprise flitted through Ryoga's expression. In that brief instant his grip weakened by a fraction, and Yuma took advantage of it to push Ryoga behind him.

"The sharkbait thinks he can take us on alone, huh?" Suit-man asked.

Yuma reached for his D-Pad. One hand flicked the newly-installed switch. A small LED flicked on a second later.

Dreadlocks-guy scoffed. "What're you planning to do with that? Call the police?"

Whilst calling the police may have been the smartest idea, Yuma had something he really wanted to try. He reached up to his neckline.

"Let's get him, bro," Suit-man said.

He attacked.

Yuma barely brought his left arm up in time to block the punch aimed at his skull, and ducked. The fist brushed the edge of his antennae. A loud _snap _sounded from beyond his head, the D-Pad's duel field extension ripped off its hinges and clattering to the tiled ground moments later. Suit-man swung another punch, hoping to smash his nose in, but Yuma finally found the opening to the hidden pocket under his hood.

It was before the second punch connected that he slapped the card onto the D-Pad's surface. An explosion of light and energy left the device, and Suit-man stumbled backwards from the force. The light floated upwards, leaving the D-Pad at incomprehensible rates, then gathered at a point before solidifying in the air.

The glow disappeared to leave a violet orb suspended from no identifiable source. Its array of spikes and wicked aura set off every instinct within him(_—danger! threat! run!_) and was nothing short of intimidating.

Yuma didn't know what he'd expected. But he knew what to do.

"_Rise!_" he called, arm outstretched. "_Numbers 17: Leviath Dragon!_"

The violet orb glowed at the call, and the six scythe-like projections extended. Each interlocking plate unwound into a great serpent with six leathery wings, a neat '17' printed on one of five horns. Piercing yellow eyes surveyed the surrounds, and an extremely long tail swished with every rise and fall of its chest.

It looked _alive_.

"Numbers..." Suit-man breathed, his eyes never leaving the beast.

Dreadlocks-guy completed the sentence for him. "...you're the Numbers Hunter."

Before Yuma could say anything, another voice interrupted;

"No."

Both Rikuo and Kaio fell to the ground, hit by the butt of a Duel Disk attached to a white trenchcoat. Under the trenchcoat, Kaito scowled, kicking Dreadlocks-guy's side.

"_I _am the Numbers Hunter," he said. "Tonma is my employer."

"Kaito!" Yuma exclaimed. Kaito didn't look at him, glancing at something falling behind them in the distance, and Yuma heard a distinct whirr. "You're—"

He stopped; something or someone jerked him into a lock. An arm was wrapped tightly around his neck, forcing him toward the floor. The Numbers card fell off the D-Pad and onto the ground, and the Solid Vision image dissolved. Then he felt a knife at his throat and the premonitory sting of cold steel.

"_Numbers_," Ryoga hissed in his ear, the switchblade in his hands. "_Give me_ your Numbers."

* * *

><p><strong>Rikuo - <em>lit. King of Earth<em>  
>Kaio - <em>lit. King of Ocean<em> **

**People should include Taichi in their stories more. He's cuddly.**

**Please review? :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Last of the re-uploaded chapters. Doop de doo.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four:<strong>

Yuma froze.

Fortunately for him, the angle of the blade meant pressure and not penetration. But it still tickled his skin, laying threat to any unexpected movements. His heartbeat began echoing in his ears; he needed to take greater breaths to sustain the rate at which it pound.

With each breath, his throat pressed closer against the steel.

He could barely see the side of Ryoga's face in his peripheral vision. Even it was unclear. Yet, he could see the firm line of the other's jaw. He could see the wild, broken stare boring holes into his head. He could see Ryoga's strong, crude grip on the handle of the switchblade, the tips of his first fingers resting against the flat of the head.

The Ryoga standing there looked _nothing _like the Ryoga that stayed with him for the past month or so.

And he, like the _others_, wanted the Numbers.

"I—I can't," said Yuma. "Ryoga... you—I—this..."

"Tsukumo. _Give them to me._"

Yuma glanced to Kaito for help, but he still stood beside the two unconscious gangsters. He wasn't looking at either of them, and Yuma followed his gaze to see it led behind. That distinct, low whirr sounded again – this time, punctuating the air with a soft snap and a click.

The switchblade fell, and there was the sound of tinkling metal as it hit the floor.

Ryoga pitched forward. Though he was thin, a surprising amount of mass kept him solid, and Yuma stumbled under the sudden weight. But Ryoga didn't react at the jolt, so Yuma awkwardly pushed the violet hair out of the way. Closed eyes and thin breath greeted him.

He looked up to Kaito again. The white glow present on his trenchcoat shattered, peeling off the coat and fading once it touched the air. Black fabric underneath took its place, and the singular red eye returned to an icy blue to mark the conclusion of Reverse Photon Change.

A series of clicks and the same whirr sounded again. Now that the switchblade no longer existed at his throat, Yuma could turn around and see the ivory robot wheeling towards them.

"Master Kaito," said Orbital-7. "Shall I take your Duel Disk?"

Kaito detached it without even so much as a nod, then threw it randomly in the robot's direction. Orbital-7 floundered briefly, catching it in an outstretched arm.

In neat steps, his feet barely making a sound, Kaito strode to Yuma's side. He stared down at him, taking advantage of the height earnt both from his boots and from Ryoga keeping Yuma weighed down.

"Stupid." A statement.

"I know, but..."

Kaito leant down to take the switchblade. Then he stood up and lifted it to eye-level, examining the slim, black grip and the sharp of the blade itself.

"You require our help once again, Tonma," said Kaito. "How long is it until you find that miracle?"

"Miracles aren't something I can time."

A soft frown crossed Kaito's mouth, only for an instant. Then he flung an arm out behind it without warning, and the Numbers floated into his hand with a faint shadow trailing in its wake. Another two cards from his Extra Deck joined it, cards in a foreign language, and Kaito held the three up for Yuma to see. A short second later, the words on all three morphed into the foreign shapes and symbols created by the common Astral tongue.

_No. 19: Freezerdon. No. 61: Volcasaurus. No. 17: Leviath Dragon._

"I will take the seventeenth," Kaito stated. "You have only placed it further at risk."

When Yuma didn't respond, he finally glanced at Ryoga's limp form. "Why haven't you asked about him?"

"I don't need to ask," said Yuma. He shifted his shoulder, roughly propping Ryoga up on his feet so most of the weight rested on the floor. "You've changed since we met, and I can tell he's just unconscious."

"Tranquilizer," Orbital-7 offered. "Calculated to body weight. It will last two hours, with ten percent margin of error."

"Quiet."

Orbital-7 saluted. "Understood, Master Kaito!"

"How do we get back?" Yuma asked.

As Ryoga got passed across, upon Kaito's reluctant offer, and Orbital-7 gave suggestions in order to aid them to its best ability, none of them were aware of a pair of eyes hidden inside an abandoned store. The watcher could not hear a single word spoken, but the presence of the newcomers were enough for them to take out their phone.

But it had been Orbital-7's morph into a motorcycle that really caught their attention. And the instant Ryoga's unconscious body took the singular seat, forcing Yuma and Kaito to walk, the watcher had long-called the second number on their speed dial.

"T.K." Pause. "Yeah, it's Ginji. We have a problem."

* * *

><p>When they arrived back at the apartment, Orbital-7 stuck lugging Ryoga's weight, Yuma unlocked the door to see Cathy.<p>

On a chair.

Sitting right behind the door.

_Literally._

"Yuma! Kaito!" she exclaimed, dodging around the door; a door about to hit her in the face. She jumped up at once, wrapping her arms around Yuma's neck. Kaito had it slightly better off, as she just winked and gave a catty wave in his direction. "Welcome back!"

"Why were you, uh, behind the door, Cathy?" Yuma asked.

"You were late, so I waited. Where's Ryoga—" she cut herself off. "Oh! Ryoga!"

Frantic, Yuma held both hands up in the universal sign for 'STOP!'. Otherwise she would have barrelled straight into Orbital-7, and knocked the poor robot over _with _his cargo.

"It's okay, Cathy. He's just asleep, it's fine."

Cathy paused for a moment, her tail somehow swishing around, and then shrugged. "Okay. If you say so, Yuma—ah, _right!_"

"What?"

"Do you need me this evening? I'm planning to go shopping."

Yuma shook his head. "No, go ahead. We're good."

"Okay. I'll be gone for about two hours, so take care!"

She ran back a few steps and bent down to pick up the clutch beside the chair – a Cathy thing; she never seemed to kneel at all. Then with a kiss on Yuma's cheek and then an attempted kiss on Kaito's, thwarted by him moving away, she pat the top of Ryoga's head twice. With a twirl and a flare of her short, floaty skirt, she stepped out the door and proceeded to skip down the rest of the corridor.

Yuma sighed, and wiped the lip gloss residue off his face. Cathy puzzled him sometimes, she really did.

* * *

><p>Ryoga opened his eyes, and saw a deep cerulean surface.<p>

Cathy's ceiling.

It took him a moment to realize he lay across an expensive sofa. His shoes were removed, his jacket sitting blanketed over his shoulders. Judging by the elaborate wood and glass furniture, he was in the second floor's lounge. Tsukumo sat in another chair across the room, eyes shut and head tilted forward. Asleep.

"You are awake," a voice said simply — a voice that got on his nerves.

His suspicions were answered when he lifted his head to survey more of the room, causing his jacket to fall to the floor. Tenjo stood aside the fireplace; a fireplace purely for decorative purposes, as heating via Momentum was far better and far more effective.

Tenjo didn't even turn around to give acknowledgement. "He is a fool."

Before Ryoga had a chance to respond, Tsukumo yawned. Then he blinked; why had he wanted to respond?

How _would _he have responded?

"Good morning," Tsukumo muttered, scratching his neck. Ryoga watched it for a second, wondering why the action seemed to spark some points in his memory; a memory he couldn't quite reach...

It all collapsed on him at once. Tokunosuke's warning. Rikuo. Kaio. His mother.

_Numbers._

He instantly reached a hand behind him, to push him up, so he could propel himself in their direction. But the sofa was not a firm surface and he sunk downwards, leaving him in a strange, tumbled tangle.

Ryoga scowled. "The Numbers—"

"Ah." Tsukumo instantly looked awake. He sat up straighter, and leant forward. "Ryoga, what do you think the Numbers are?"

Ryoga'd first had a mind to stop the other from calling him by his first name; it had been a verbal tic that was quite bearable at first, as a safe place to stay and more kindness than he deserved made up for all his discomfort. But then the rest of the question caught up to him, and he narrowed his eyes.

"Numbers," he said, unsure why he felt compelled to answer. "They are a series of legendary cards with the power to grant a person's dreams."

The black market demanded them for _millions_.

"That's what I thought," Tsukumo replied, voice strained. "You see, that's wrong. They—"

"Exchange," Tenjo interrupted.

Tsukumo blinked.

"You trust too easily, Tonma. It is basic strategy to offer an information exchange."

"...right. What do you say, Ryoga?"

Ryoga'd wanted to decline. Especially because it had been Tenjo's suggestion. Yet, Tsukumo's denial about the Numbers made him interested. If popular belief was wrong, what were Numbers anyway?

His pride continued to war with his thirst for knowledge, and so he didn't manage to reply before Tenjo's phone rang. The Numbers Hunter left the room to answer, footsteps abnormally silent, his coattails drifting every time they reached a puff of air.

Tenjo entered again, not a minute later.

"Switzerland," he said in no particular direction. "Return Orbital-7; he is not needed."

"Sure," Tsukumo said, shrugging. "Got enough?"

Tenjo nodded, once, and left through the door again. At that, Tsukumo turned back to Ryoga. Though neither spoke, the expression on his face only asked for a reply.

"So, information exchange?"

"Agreed, within reason." Ryoga said.

He kept his face neutral. _Within reason. _Some things were better left unsaid.

"Okay," said Tsukumo. "So, Numbers first?"

"Yes."

"Well, Numbers..." Tsukumo paused. "Numbers are not from this world."

"That's ridiculous."

"Hey, the truth doesn't have to make sense. But I'm being serious here."

Ryoga studied Tsukumo's face carefully. Either he was a brilliant liar, a deluded lunatic or he was telling the truth. And he didn't seem like either of the former two.

"Like I was saying," Tsukumo added, "the Numbers are from another world. A different dimension, if you want. They're the things that made up the barrier between the Astral World and ours."

A frown threatened to slip onto Ryoga's face at the hole in the story.

Tsukumo noticed. "Obviously, they don't make up the gateway anymore. It broke a little over five years ago, and sent the Numbers into our world in the form of cards like the ones I have."

"Could..." Ryoga stopped. Asking for permission – he hadn't done that for a while. "Could I see one?"

Tsukumo hesitated. A long pause followed.

"Fine," he said, finally.

He didn't reach up to his collar this time, moving to the Extra Deck Box around his waist. He didn't need to search through it to find what he wanted; he only felt inside and took the first one he found. Then he held it out in Ryoga's direction.

"You can look," Tsukumo said. "But don't touch."

Ryoga leant closer. But he didn't need to. He couldn't read it, but he could already sense wave after wave of disgusting power roll off the surface. It licked at the skin and around his fingertips, tempting him. Taunting him. The very image seemed to blur and sharpen, simultaneously coming into and going out of focus. The constant pulsation; the card did everything it could to draw him closer.

If he hadn't believed Tsukumo's words before, the outerworldly nature of the card itself did the job for him. Nothing could be like that; nothing could explain the ripples and the desire the white figure emanated.

It made him sick.

But, even so... he couldn't deny he wanted it.

_It can save the legacy,_ he defended. _Only Numbers can help the Laevatein survive._

"You're falling for it."

Ryoga snapped his head up and blinked. Somehow his hand had moved closer – but fortunately, the card no longer sat where it had been. A simple glance showed it back in both of Tsukumo's hands, and he couldn't help but wonder how the other could run his fingers along the edge and wipe his thumb against the surface without influence.

"How can you touch it?"

"That's complicated."

Ryoga wanted to ask more, and enquire further. But in that pause, Tsukumo spoke first. "You agreed to an information exchange. Your turn."

Reluctantly, he nodded; fine.

"You went to South Heartland College, right? Is that... a school for delinquents?"

"No," he corrected. "It's a teen boarding school for people who need discipline. Private."

Expensive.

Tsukumo blinked. "Why not Heartland Central?"

"There were some... issues," said Ryoga. Images of many policemen and countless suits flashed through his mind, alongside a beloved mural and a car – both destroyed beyond repair. "Aggressive conduct disorder. SHC was to cure it."

Except it didn't. The thousands of dollars were spent on techniques that kept the worst symptoms at bay. If his mental blocks shattered, he didn't know what he could do once enraged.

He didn't want to know; it only created more trouble than gain.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ryoga said. "How can you touch the Numbers?"

Tsukumo didn't look too pleased with the change of subject. But still, he didn't demand any further.

"I used to have a necklace. A key. The Prince of the Astral World is connected to it. Things from the Astral World are fundamentally different in base structure, and what you felt on the Numbers is basically that reacting with the molecules of our dimension, and some of their innate power."

It didn't take much effort to recall the sensation, for it was at the forefront of Ryoga's mind the entire time.

"Because I wore the key for years," Tsukumo continued, "it changed me into something closer to things from their dimension and I converted it into something closer to things from our dimension. Like chemical processes; they don't lose the elements they began with, they only transfer when they change. Your turn: why did you come to Neo Domino City?"

Ryoga scowled at the change of topic as fast as his own.

"Heartland is no longer as safe as it used to be."

"You said that before."

"Nothing about the gang wars."

Tsukumo's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"They've been around for years. The Laevatein and the Emperor aren't what I'd call allies."

"The Laevatein? That's what those two – Rikuo and Kaio – mentioned."

Of course Tsukumo would remember something that deceptively insignificant. Ryoga's thoughts were on overdrive; it complicated how much he could hide.

"Both the Laevatein and the Emperor want something from me." Ryoga said. "Next: Kaito Tenjo."

Tsukumo sighed. "What about him?"

"Everything."

"I can't tell you everything."

"Then what you can."

"He's from the Astral World. It is his and his brother's duty to serve the prince. We collect the Numbers to repair the barrier." Tsukumo raised an eyebrow. "Why do the Laevatein and the Emperor want something from you?"

Both their answers were growing shorter, and more concise. And both knew it.

But even so, Ryoga hesitated. It was getting personal. Too personal. And it was a question with only one answer.

"My mother," he began, slowly. "The boss of the Laevatein fell in love with her, after his first wife died. Rikuo and Kaio are fraternal twins, born to the boss and his first wife."

He paused.

"The boss loved my mother more than anyone else in the world," he continued. "I don't want to talk about it. The night Tenjo appeared; how did you get the metal bar from me?"

Now Tsukumo looked slightly uncomfortable. And even though, technically, Tsukumo could have stopped the exchange at any moment because he answered first, it didn't seem to cross his mind.

"Kaito can stop time."

Ryoga stared. He'd played with the notion, true, but he'd never believed it for a second. "And you...?"

"People with Numbers aren't affected, because they possess things from the Astral World. Last question; why do you want them?"

"Money."

Tsukumo seemed surprised. "Not for power?"

The very notion of him wanting it for power made him feel incensed, instantaneously. And he knew it showed.

"I _hate _power." Possessing too much power was what got him into SHC, after all. "Rikuo and Kaio took my most valuable thing from me, so I'll take the Laevatein from them. Money can do everything in the underground."

The expression on Tsukumo's face changed when he connected the dots. Good; that meant he didn't need to explain.

"Who is the prince?" asked Ryoga.

"The prince?" repeated Tsukumo. "Astral. He's a hermit."

Ryoga blinked. What?

"A hermit."

With those words, Tsukumo grinned; a grin that promised something quite _special_.

"Wanna meet him?"

* * *

><p><strong>The idea for using Duel Monsters as name basis for the gangs (Chaos Emperor Dragon, Dragunity Arms LaevateinArma Leyvaten) is stolen from Firefly Nexus and their story, White Night. (Unfortunately, they seem to have fallen off the face of the internet. D8)**

**Please review? :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Beta-read by Chimera17.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five:<strong>

The next morning, the both of them were free from any responsibilities once more. It'd been a real trial, explaining to Cathy that yes, Kaito once again had an important trip to make, and no, it wasn't because he hated her, and yes, he was going to Switzerland for another job; but Yuma think he did pretty good—all things considered.

Pity his personal bank accounts weren't so optimistic. He hadn't gone searching for a job since handing out those fliers for Cadical Mobile, and it had been a while. The only income he had now was from Cathy... but he didn't even know why she bothered with wages, since he and Kaito were both staying at her place for free. Ryoga really didn't count – somehow he turned up with money. Money Yuma hoped wasn't too illegal.

Cathy always refused to take Ryoga's money, though, so maybe he was included in the freeloading circle...

Regardless, Yuma really needed a job. He was scrounging too much money, and though she didn't _need_ any money back, being in debt really sucked.

Yuma sighed as he watched the scenery shift from the City to New Daedalus, as the train began heading across the ocean. The central golden monument shone pristine in the sunlight, timeless, and the few waves washing around it seemed to be cleaning it as if technology could become a part of nature's rhythmic beating. The roads were as clear as they were during the revered WRGP, untouched by the occasional gale and the earthquakes of the past.

An incomprehensible urge to Riding Duel across the ocean rushed through him, but the barriers in his way were large and forefront. He'd need a duel partner and a license, a riding deck to begin with, and the potential cost of the Momentum was ridiculous. Cathy may have had enough money, and would have been eager to lend him some, but this problem led him full-circle.

How to pay off his debts?

"Tsukumo," said Ryoga.

Yuma turned away from the window to Ryoga sitting next to him. "Yeah?"

"Yesterday. How did you..."

"How did I summon Leviath Dragon?"

Ryoga nodded. In answer, Yuma held up his D-Pad: though the duel field hadn't yet been replaced after Suit-man ripped it off, the small green switch to the side remained intact.

"This switch activates the transition from AR to Solid Vision," he explained. "The D-Pad can already read the microchips inside cards to know which is which, it just has to change the way the image is displayed."

"It has Solid Vision compatibility?"

"Not really." He didn't have enough money for that. "It's reprogrammed, and backdated."

Ryoga looked at him curiously. "Backdated?"

"Yeah. It uses Seto Kaiba's initial Solid Vision, not NDC."

"Why?"

"Everything that uses Momentum is monitored by the Public Security Maintenance Bureau."

Yuma double-guessed himself when Ryoga twitched toward a pocket, the action too fast to see. But then Ryoga's eyes narrowed, and Yuma instantly overlayed the expression with his memory of the switchblade incident. The two were the same; this was the Ryoga with nothing but negative emotions, the one normally hidden from view.

"Is this true?" he asked.

Yuma shrugged. "I heard Desk telling my sister when I was younger."

"There would be no differences between each version."

"The initial Solid Vision isn't recorded the same – something about encoding and efficiency, I think."

"You can program?"

"Nah—I tried, but I ended up commissioning a freelance."

"Hn."

The two lapsed into silence again.

Above them, the sun's rays followed their carriage as the monument moved away and the ocean faded, the train moving to land. As the tracks split, the magnetic fields changed, allowing the train to move to the left with only a slight jolt to those inside. The shiny, pristine white buildings from refurbished Satellite quickly rose above them, any faint scars from the last earthquake long repaired.

Soon enough, the track dipped. Darkness rose around the steel, fended off by fluorescent white lights. Then the platform's edge slowed as the invisible force of the brakes drew the train to a stop.

"This is us," said Yuma, getting to his feet.

As he adjusted the straps of his backpack, Ryoga stood up and did so as well. Not a moment later, the seal keeping the doors closed broke with a pneumatic hiss. The doors slid open fluidly, allowing the two of them to step onto the navy-themed platform.

It was after they took the escalators to the main part of the building, scanned their tickets through the machine and then stepped onto the street did Ryoga speak again.

"Where are we going?"

"To see Astral, of course," replied Yuma, as if it were obvious. It was.

"The prince?"

"Yeah."

They turned a corner.

"Where?" Ryoga asked.

Yuma replied with a non-committal shrug. "Around. You'll see."

* * *

><p>The two walked for a few more blocks, turning past a park and the entrance to a food alley. Eventually, Tsukumo stopped before an apartment building, glanced to see if Ryoga still stood beside him, and then stepped forward and allowed the automatic glass doors to open. The inside of the building mirrored the same blue paint and silver metal themes as was the norm.<p>

They entered the little, long room, far too narrow to be called a foyer. Passing the small couch and the tall vase of plastic flowers, the two walked across the cheap carpet to the elevator doors. Where the elevator's control panel would be a glossy stainless steel plate sat instead, under a slim, dark slot.

Tsukumo fished inside a pocket. From it he retrieved a key card. After placing it in the slot, a small beep sounded as the light turned green, and then the plate slid away to allow the up switch to appear.

The ascent to the fifth floor was taken in silence.

After they passed a corridor, Ryoga didn't know what to expect when Tsukumo paused before a door like any other. Definitely not when Tsukumo pulled out a ring of old-fashioned metal keys and inserted them into the lock.

A faint click sounded, and Tsukumo swung the door open.

As they moved through one little-furnished room after another, Ryoga took time to observe his surrounds. Everywhere he looked, he only saw bare necessities: a single table, with two chairs. A tiny fridge better suited for a mini-bar than a kitchen. A small kettle acted as the only visible appliance otherwise, hot pink sides bringing a fragment of colour to the room.

"So?" asked Ryoga.

"Yeah?"

"Where is the prince?"

Tsukumo indicated the door they had yet to enter – one Ryoga initially assumed to be a bathroom as it sat off the side.

"In there." Before Ryoga even had the chance to formulate a response, Tsukumo rapped on the door. "Astral, open up!"

There was a slight pause before the door slid aside. Nobody stood behind it; it was as if it had opened on its own. Ryoga flinched. His hand reached into his pocket, and he pulled out his cellphone. A slim, sharp blade slid out at the flick of a switch.

Tokunosuke always guaranteed quality.

"It's nice to see you too," Tsukumo said to empty air, a sarcastic edge to his tone. After a pause, he continued. "This is Ryoga Kamishiro. I mentioned him."

Another pause, this time longer, and Tsukumo turned his attention from the doorway to look at him. "How many knives do you have?"

Ryoga didn't answer. He lifted the blade from its place hidden by his body and took half a step back to lower his centre of gravity. His left hand was in a position where it could obscure the blade at a moment's notice – as losing sight of the weapon could be fatal – and he held the cellphone parallel to the ground, ready to strike.

The blade was nowhere near as robust as the trusty switchblade now in Tsukumo's possession, but against the invisible threat it would have to do.

"Put it away, Ryoga," said Tsukumo, as if he were soothing a wild animal. "This is Astral. Ah, um—Astral, come out a little more."

A pendant floated out of the doorway. It was a small, triangular thing, possessing a gold sheen that could not merely have been cheap plating. Two emerald orbs sat nestled in the shape, and there was something about how they reflected light that he wouldn't have been surprised if they were real. But most notably, what Ryoga noticed at once, was that its cord hung as if draped over shoulders—shoulders that only existed as air.

Then the air seemed to shift and the air took the cellphone _out of his hands_.

"What—"

"The Key," said Tsukumo. "Astral is invisible to other people, but the power stored in the Key can at least give him form. That said, Astral," he added, turning to the pendant again, "can you get the projector?"

The Key floated back into the room. It returned moments later. This time, a remote like that of an R/C car was suspended in what could have been its hands, and it stood upon a small black device no bigger than a shoebox. A network of nodes connected by thin white wires gave the space a shape and form. Ryoga watched as a button on the remote depressed, but his attention was caught by a sudden motion in the corner of his eye.

Tsukumo clicked his D-Gazer into position. Doing the same, Ryoga blinked. He'd initially thought the closeness of the nodes was because of some technological limitation, not because they outlined the almost anorexic blue figure that appeared. The figure lifted an arm, and he briefly removed the D-Gazer to see a bundle of nodes hovering above where they used to be. Those nodes gave a wave.

"_Astral_?" said Ryoga.

Astral nodded. It turned back toward Tsukumo's direction for a few moments, and it must have been talking though Ryoga could neither see its mouth move nor hear words spoken because Tsukumo smiled in visible relief. Then the figure flicked the joystick, causing tiny motors to thrum with Momentum, and it steered the box into the room. There was no hesitation when Tsukumo followed, and – struck by curiosity – Ryoga trailed behind.

If he had been expecting grandeur in the small room, grandeur befitting a prince of any world, he would have been sorely disappointed. It did, however, possess the character absent from every other. Deep blue curtains, decorated with small yellow stars, were pulled shut against one wall . Stray shafts of sunlight peeking through the gaps cast exotic light and shadow across a glass vase filled with flowers, situated atop a side table. Two chairs sat to one side, and a futon of Western design was on the other.

The image of Astral stopped past the chairs, allowing Tsukumo to move past it and kneel by the futon. Ryoga took a few steps forward. The futon, which had seemed empty, held a small child swathed beneath soft blankets. The child's skin was abnormally pale, even without comparing it to powdery blue hair, and what once seemed like creases in the blankets were realized as spindly thin limbs. Dark shadows bordered closed eyes, and thin lips held little colour.

"How long has he been sleeping?" asked Tsukumo.

Ryoga, who had glanced toward where the chest would've been, saw the faint rise and fall the subjugated his worst case scenario.

Astral must have replied, because Tsukumo said: "Do you have enough Numbers?"

A nod.

"Do it," said Tsukumo.

There was a pause, but Astral steered the box so it stood aside the futon. Right hand pointed to its sternum, the other held gently over the child's face. Nothing happened in the next ten seconds, and just as Ryoga thought whatever they were trying had failed, black tendrils began to materialize from its chest. They formed a distinctive rectangle, seconds more giving it closer and closer resemblance to a Duel Monsters card.

Xyz. A Number.

When the Number was complete, Astral placed it atop where the child's heart would have been, then placed the free hand above it. There was a bright glow, followed by a wave of energy palatable to Ryoga's skin despite the distance between them—a wave of energy definitely not created from AR. Once it faded the barest hints of colour returned to the child's skin, but there was nowhere near enough to be considered healthy.

"What was...?"

Tsukumo turned to Ryoga sharply, a look of surprise shifting to that of warning. Astral looked across also, the action slower, though a lack of nodes on its 'face' meant the augmented image didn't change expression.

"Let's go, Ryoga," said Tsukumo. "I'm done here. See ya, Astral."

Tsukumo crossed the floor so he could shove Ryoga out of the room. The momentum resulted in a dangerous teeter when Ryoga dug his heels into the floor.

He folded his arms. "Don't push me."

"I'll tell you later," came the whisper, almost too quiet. "Just follow my lead."

Ryoga rolled his eyes. When he spoke, his voice returned to its usual volume.

"You said Astral was a hermit."

Tsukumo seemed taken aback, then his expression changed as he understood the change of topic. "Yeah. Of course. No one ever sees him, and he can't talk to people unless they're like me."

For a few seconds Ryoga just stared at him, dumbfounded. Then he turned around and walked out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review? :)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

"That's all for today. Tsukumo Yuma?"

Yuma looked up from his notebook, where class notes cascaded down the page in messy scrawl. "Yes, sir?"

"Please stay behind."

Few students had already left the classroom by the time Yuma finished reviewing what had been written. There was nobody asking if he wanted them to wait, as a frequent recurrence of late departures had been integrated into his routine, so the room was empty by the time he packed his things away. Professor Edelson knelt over his desk, shutting down the room's projector systems with a few deft keystrokes, and looked up when Yuma neared.

Yuma couldn't help but wonder how a tanned, stocky man with eyes clearly marked as foreign managed to get so far teaching Physics in Neo Domino University.

"Professor Edelson?"

"Do you have anywhere you need to be now?" said Edelson.

"No, sir."

"Good, good. Then, I would like to talk to you about your results."

"Is this about the last test?"

"In part." Edelson straightened so he no longer talked to his laptop computer. "Do you have any difficulty with the material?"

"Sometimes," Yuma admitted, "but I can get over it, so it's okay—"

"Next year won't get easier. As for your test... while your work is sound, you seem to be missing a grasp of the concepts, and your execution of the mathematics isn't optimal."

"I'll make sure to get better then, sir."

"Do you like physics, Tsukumo?"

"It's alright, I guess."

"Is there anyone forcing you to do this?"

"No one's forcing me," said Yuma, his tone far more defensive than he would've liked. "I chose it myself. I—I know I'm not doing too well right now, sir, but I'll work harder to make sure my scores are better next time."

"Exam scores are what ultimately govern selection, and excellent exam technique can be trained. I can tell you now, next year will be a grueling one. If you want to continue, I can't stop you, but I don't want you to burn out."

Edelson turned to the foldable wheel basket aside the desk, and pulled out a book with a blue spine propped amongst the papers. Yuma blinked when it was passed across, both at the action and the feel of it in his hands, and read the elegant silver lettering across the side. A Universe of Strings.

"Do you remember your old professor, Kitano Ukyo?"

"Yeah."

"He and I are old friends. When he found out you were in my class, he asked if I could give this book to you. Said it might have what you wanted." A faint frown flickered across his expression as he looked at the title. "How that man converted to M-Theology I'll never know."

"M-Theology?"

"Theory. M-Theory," Edelson corrected. "It claims that all particles and forms of energy in the universe are nothing but strings of energy. A so-called theory of everything, its validity hinges on the existence of a subatomic particle that hasn't been discovered after over a century. Until then, it's nothing but a theology with mathematical backing."

Yuma flipped through the pages.

"Although," continued Edelson, "the syllabus doesn't move onto quantum until the end of next year, at least. Are you interested in that?"

"Maybe." His tone was more than a little distracted, as a line of text caught his attention—would purport the existence of eleven separate dimensions—but he tore his eyes away to look up again. "Did Professor Ukyo say how long I could borrow this, Professor Edelson?"

"He said you could keep it, actually. It's strange, but so is a man gifted in physics choosing to teach mathematics to grade schoolers."

"He likes seeing people happy."

Edelson gave a conceding shrug. "True. I hope you think over what we discussed earlier, Tsukumo. I've seen too many people unable to sustain the pressure and fall."

"Believe me," Yuma replied, "I won't fall again."

* * *

><p>Ryoga was waiting for him at the station, leant up against a support beam with hands in pockets – an action that would have been languid, were it not for the foot tapping against the tiled floor or the scowl under hair permanently windswept from ferocious flurries outside. The scowl deepened as Yuma neared.<p>

"You're late," said Ryoga.

"Professor Edelson wanted to talk to me. I thought you went out today—I didn't think you'd be waiting."

"Hm. The book?"

Yuma moved the book out from under his arm, where red lines ran along his forearm from attempts to stop it flying away. "Professor Ukyo – from Heartland Central – gave it to me. I think I'm getting closer to an answer now."

"Answer to?"

"Reaching the Astral World."

"You promised me information," said Ryoga, eyes flashing.

Yuma cringed. "I did, didn't I?" The two of them had their passes scanned, as they walked through the concourse to wait at the platform. "I'll tell you later—"

"In the last two days, that was also your answer. Tell me, Tsukumo."

"No really, though, I can't—"

"Now."

"But—"

Yuma made the mistake of turning to face Ryoga, and saw the demanding glare carrying a malice that did not need to be spoken. The hair at his nape rose to stand on end.

"Okay, okay, I promised," he said quickly, lifting his hands in surrender. "That was Haruto, Kaito's little brother."

An air of dislike settled at the mention of Kaito's name, but Ryoga still started and raised a brow. What happened?

"Astral says he was too attuned to the Astral World and can't adapt to the frequency of ours, and that translates to anemia."

"And the cards?"

"The cards are from their world, right?" Yuma asked, just as the metro arrived and they moved to board. "We sacrifice some to sustain him."

"That would eventually result in negative profit."

Yuma blinked. "Profit—wait, what?"

"You use more than you earn."

"Well, yeah, maybe. But the same way Kaito has his ability, Haruto has his own. Astral tried to explain it once, something about being able to see the entire world simultaneously. Every time Kaito uses his ability, people with cards aren't affected so Haruto can see where they are."

"Then, would Astral have an ability?"

"Dunno. I haven't asked."

A lull followed, filled by the passing scenery. Buildings steadily rose taller, glass windows gleaming in parade. The number of cars on the road increased as peak hour struck, pricey Momentum deterring few in the high-end Central Hub from using streets.

Then Yuma turned to Ryoga again. "Where were you today?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

The glare that followed felt more obligatory than loathing. "I went to... visit her."

"You didn't mention you had family here."

"Neo Domino was my mother's hometown."

_"Mummy's not here to save you now," Suit-man added, taking his sunglasses off and polishing them on his shirt. "'cause she's dead. Serves the slut right."_

"Oh," said Yuma, when the realization hit him. Ryoga's mother. "I... see."

He wondered for a moment if the admission meant the other man finally opened up further.

"Does she have relatives here?" said Yuma. Ryoga nodded, grudgingly. "Why don't you stay with them?"

Shrug.

"Do you know where to buy morning glory?" asked Ryoga instead.

"Yeah – I think there's a flower shop in the other building."

"They are—they are her favourite. Come with me next time."

"Is that okay?"

Ryoga shrugged again, and buried his hands deeper into his pockets. "Yeah. Whatever."

* * *

><p>The two of them entered through the door on the second floor whilst the sky begun to darken, visible through the window at the end of the corridor. Ryoga didn't offer another word after mention of his family; he didn't need to, as Tsukumo picked up whatever underlying current of reluctance and didn't talk any further.<p>

They'd barely made it to the landing where they would usually split paths, when Tsukumo visibly stiffened. A woman with long red hair held in a high ponytail was ascending the large staircase that led to the lower floor, a frown on her face and a handbag under one arm. Tsukumo took a half-step back, almost so that Ryoga shielded him from whatever would unfold.

Ryoga sent a glare in his direction. Upon seeing Cathy ascend a few steps behind, he acted upon an urge brought from deliberate spite and went to stand near her, leaving Tsukumo to alone to fend for himself.

Tsukumo seemed to wilt when the woman snarled.

"_Yuma._"

"W—What are you doing here, Akari?" he asked.

"What am _I_ doing here?" repeated Akari. "I've sent you fifteen letters this year. _Fifteen._"

"Oh... them."

"Yes. Them. You haven't replied to _any_ of them."

"I've been busy."

"So busy you can't even send an _email_ telling us you're alright?" Tsukumo looked away. "Yuma!"

"Akari—"

The ringing of Ryoga's cellphone interrupted whatever Tsukumo was preparing to say. Ryoga didn't bother to apologize, merely taking the opportunity to return to his room, leaving nothing to mark his absence.

When he checked the Caller ID and did a double-take, nearly tripping over his feet in the shadowed halls, he was thankful no one was present to witness the action.

"It's me," he said.

"Shark!" came Ginji's voice, and at the shrill tone he could imagine the lanky redhead with spindly fingers buried in his scalp. "You're alright!"

"I told you it was fine," another voice said, Tokunosuke, this time without the lilted accents from his earlier disguise. They were probably on speakerphone.

"Fine?" said Ginji. "I saw him being taken somewhere by some weird people while he was unconscious – you can't seriously think I'll believe he's fine."

"But you can believe my sources if one of those is someone he trusts," Tokunosuke replied. "Oh, Shark? I didn't know your mother liked morning glory."

Ryoga spun to look behind him so quickly he spent half a second under whiplash. Nobody was there; Cathy and that woman Akari were still at the landing, and a series of distinctive thumps marked Tsukumo's journey up to his attic.

"How long have you been following me?" he said through the phone.

Ginji and Tokunosuke answered simultaneously.

"Not long," said Ginji. "At least not really, man. It's all in the interest of your safety, 'cause we need you."

"That wasn't following at all; I wasn't even trying," said Tokunosuke. "You really need to be aware of what you say and where you are, Shark."

Ryoga reached his room and closed the door behind him as he entered, before locking it and moving to the backpack propped against a chair.

"Is it time?" he asked.

"Almost," said Ginji. "We just need you here for preparation, then we're good to go."

Hand stuck in the front compartment, Ryoga rummaged for the chip he knew was inside. He found it two seconds later and registered it into his D-Gazer, then after a quick minigame that served as both a means of password and a diversion to its true intentions, an augmented map appeared in his vision like a heads-up display.

He swiped his hand in the air, and the map zoomed in to a location highlighted in blue.

"You're still at the Bridge?"

Ginji's reply was sheepish. "Yeah. We had to stay, there was another swarm. When're you coming?"

"There's no deadline involved, is there?"

"Nope. Though of course, it'd be better if we could get it done sooner," said Tokunosuke. "Why? You planning to stay?"

Ryoga glanced away, though neither of the two on the other end could see him, and the action caused the map to close. Why was he hesitating?

"I can't go yet," he answered, finally. "I have a lead on the Numbers."

"What about Swallow's Nest?" said Ginji.

Ryoga found himself moving toward the window. A white curtain was pushed aside to eye the setting sun, and the thousands of glimmers cast against countless windows and stainless skyscrapers in its wake.

"We've already waited five and a half years, a few weeks is nothing." He couldn't help his mouth twitching into a wry smile. "With the Numbers, we'll be unstoppable."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review. :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Dadada-dada-da. (Enjoy. This arc is almost over, I promise.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven:<strong>

Yuma would have been lying if he said he expected to see his sister. But there she was, glaring at him the way she always did so many years ago, except now she had to crane her neck slightly upwards to connect their eyes to rather than looking down.

He spoke. "Akari—"

Then a jarring tune cut though the air, the sound of a cellphone, and he was spared from having to answer—until it was revealed to be Ryoga's phone. The violet-haired man left Cathy's side to answer it in private, leaving the full force of Akari's gaze on Yuma again.

He shrivelled.

"Akari, I don't have time for this," he said, injecting bravado into his words as he tried to straighten again. "I've got a lot of work to do."

There was a flick of a ponytail in a manner that could easily become maddening, then Akari placed her hands on hips and her glare shifted into a pursed scowl.

"And you think I don't?" she asked.

"Well, you're probably here because you had a lead or something in Neo Domino."

"I do, about Heartland's smuggling rings. But that's not the point. The point is that I can make time in my schedule to visit you, and there's no way you can't make time to reply to my letters."

"Who said I even wanted to reply?"

Akari's eyes narrowed at the scathing tone. She did what a Tsukumo did best; fight back when pressed to comply.

"Do you know how much Grandma worries about you every day?" she snapped. "Suddenly devoting your time to study instead of visiting your friends, moving out of the house without any financial help at all—"

"I don't need your help!" said Yuma. "I never asked for your help! Every time you try to _help_ you only make things _worse_."

"Yuma—"

"I can do what I want! Just—"

For the briefest of moments, he hesitated. Cathy sat a small distance away, sitting atop the gilded railing that bordered the landing and the rest of the second storey overhang. Though she was playing with twin pom-pom balls hung around her neck, his skin began to prickle with the keen awareness that only accompanied a private conversation heard by foreign ears.

"Akari," he said, lamely, and the book under his arm slipped a few centimetres as he lost all fight and sagged, "get out of my life."

* * *

><p>Flip.<p>

"Yuma," said Cathy, feet stuck in padded cat-paw slippers and propped up against the table, "what do you think?"

Yuma aimlessly led his piece of toast into his mouth without looking up from the pages of his book.

"Mmhmm," he said.

Flip.

"I wish I managed to convince Akari to stay, I could show her all the new kittens. Don't you think so?"

Another crunch of toast, followed by another distracted answer. "Mmhmm."

Flip.

"Geez, Yuma~ haven't you read that thing already?"

"Mmhmm."

"Could you not read at the table? I know you like studying and all, but I can't see your face."

Flip. "Mmhmm."

Yuma didn't close the book, and though he couldn't possibly comprehend why Cathy would need to see him, did oblige and lower it a little more. As a result, the cover no longer blocked his view of the doorway, and it was at that moment that a phantom apparition entered the dining room.

He blinked and the apparition focused in his vision. "Kaito?"

Kaito ignored him, continuing into the kitchen. When he left it a few moments later he had a half-empty bottle of chilled water in his hands and his trenchcoat had returned to dusty grey, no longer suspended within Photon Mode.

"Kaito~!"

It was unsurprising when Kaito chose to walk the long way around the other side of the table as opposed to passing by Cathy's arms, swaying in demand of a hug.

"Back from Switzerland?" asked Cathy.

"Yes."

Yuma sensed, rather than saw, when Kaito come to a stop behind him. He didn't turn to see the Numbers Hunter, merely flipped the page and continued reading; searching for that sliver of information Professor Ukyo said it may have contained.

"Tonma," said Kaito, his voice that unmistakable edge of cold and crisp. "Did you want something?"

"Not really."

"Then do not call for me." Rather than leaving, though, Kaito bent closer to the pages. "I thought so."

Yuma did swivel around that time, red antennae narrowly missing Kaito's eye. "What?"

Kaito tapped a finger against a passage, and Yuma read it again.

_'—Time can be considered as a fourth dimension to the universe, a dimension in many ways quite similar to the three spatial dimensions in which we are immersed—'_

"So?" asked Yuma.

Before Kaito had a chance to answer, the sound of a chair sliding backwards had them look up and across the table; Cathy had pushed her chair out so she could get to her feet. She sighed, forlorn, the action far more dramatic than need be.

"I'm off," she said. "I can see when my friendship isn't needed."

Yuma spluttered. "Wait, no, you don't have to go—"

"I was joking," came the reply, accompanied with the dismissive waving of a paw-shaped glove. "But I do need to leave. There're some potential tenants I need to meet anyway, and construction that needs to be overseen. Kaito, are you staying?"

"Perhaps," said Kaito.

"Then I'll see you. Have you two seen Ryoga?"

"I heard him leaving this morning," answered Yuma.

"Oh," said Cathy. "Well, if you do, tell him I've decided to host dinner in the great hall today."

"But there's only four of us—"

"And four's plenty!" Cathy sent them a catty smile when she reached the doorway. "See you!"

Then she was gone. Moments later, the doorbell sent its heavy chiming throughout the residence, just as Yuma turned to Kaito again.

"What did you mean?" he asked.

Kaito drew himself to his full height and folded his arms, and when he spoke it was with the dullness that accompanied common knowledge.

"My power is different than it was before."

"Is it? How come?"

"This world is limited, Tonma. You humans are restrained to four dimensions, the three lower dimensions of space and a fourth dimension above them."

"Are you saying... there are more than four?"

"In this world? I do not know. In the Astral World, we are not so limited."

"How many dimensions are over there?"

"Six of which you would be familiar. Four of space. Two of time."

"Are you serious?"

Kaito sent across a _look_.

"Right," said Yuma, quickly. "Um. So you—your power...?"

"I am limited to the fourth."

"I see – here, it's time. What's the fourth dimension there?"

"You would not understand. The closest equivalent in this world would be your gravity."

"Manipulating gravity, huh?" repeated Yuma. Then an idea struck. "Is Haruto's ability also related to dimensions?"

Kaito's lower lip stiffened. As if there was an unpleasant taste in his mouth, he reluctantly said: "Haruto... is blessed with command of the lower three."

"All – all three? So he actually manipulates space?"

As soon as he said those words, a shudder of realization flitted through him. Frantic fingers flipped to the end of the book, a finger on his other hand marking the page holding the passage on dimensions, his eyes searching for the words he remembered seeing but could not recall.

Yuma froze. "Kaito."

"What?" came the bored reply.

"Would this... would this work?"

It was with slight derision when Kaito looked down at the pages again. A pause preceded the reply, accompanied by held breath as if any interruption could cause the words to evaporate into dust.

"Hn," said Kaito, finally. "We have not considered it, but... yes, in theory."

"Let's—let's do it."

Kaito's eyes trailed to meet Yuma's own. "I will not allow you to risk the Prince's life for a trivial idea, Tonma."

"No, I'm sure," said Yuma, suppressing the chill spidering down his spine. "This'll work. It has to."

"...Very well. I will call Orbital-7 and have him prepare for our arrival."

Yuma hesitated.

"Ah," he muttered. "About that. I, erm, forgot to return him last time."

"Then retrieve it," Kaito said simply, though he frowned. "We leave in two minutes. When we arrive, we will try your... theory."

* * *

><p>It took three attempts to open the front door, with keys threatening to slip through shaking fingers. But when he heard the mechanical click, followed by the near-indiscernible electronic beep as the biological system confirmed internal access, the Yuma Tsukumo that pushed open the door was a Yuma Tsukumo determined to prove someone wrong.<p>

Astral was in the little side room, still connected by the network of nodes to the little box that once projected the Momentum it used. As Kaito entered, Astral hurriedly put away the pen and the newspaper in his hands – game and horoscope pages scribbled full of runic characters and the occasional doodle – and any airiness in his expression quickly drained away.

Kaito sent across a glare. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Yuma had asked me to," said Astral.

"And you did so."

"I—was bored."

"You have enough to amuse yourself with."

"Yes," said Astral, "but he could not see me."

"'He'?"

"Yuma's, erm, guest."

When the scowl shifted to Yuma, Astral's little sigh of relief could not have been imagined. Yuma, in turn, had to channel every bit of willpower he possessed in order to remain standing under the gaze.

"You brought somebody, Tonma?" said Kaito.

"Y-yeah. But don't worry!" Yuma added quickly. "It was just Ryoga."

"Did he see Haruto?"

"Yeah. He did."

Kaito's expression suddenly contorted to something far more unkind, eyes thinned by crumpled brows and mouth bearing the heavy lines of a scowl. His fists twitched. Then he flung out an arm, causing one of the chairs to fall and a large clatter to penetrate the room.

"You fool!" he hissed. "Of us, Haruto is the most vulnerable."

"It's not like I wanted him to," said Yuma. "I didn't think he'd enter the room after me!"

"That does not change the fact you risked his life."

"We left straight away, and besides – Ryoga _knowing _about him can't risk anything."

"How can you know for sure?"

"How do _you _know?"

"I know that man is hiding something."

"Kaito," said Astral, "Yuma was just trying to—"

"_You shut up!_"

"...brother?"

The three spun around in unison toward the voice's owner. Unusually large eyes stared back, blinking away the tendrils of sleep that once held them closed. When Haruto tried to sit up, weak arms slipping against the cheap mattress, all trace of fury left Kaito's form and he rushed over to aid his younger brother.

Kneeling aside the bed, Kaito smiled, and it was a kind smile that was never seen but fit his face so well. "Are you alright, Haruto?"

"Yes, brother," said Haruto.

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

When Haruto smiled back, the family resemblance became uncanny in how identical and buoyant they were. "Don't worry. It's okay."

"If you say so. Tonma thinks he's found a way to get us home."

Haruto giggled at the nickname. "But?"

"Hmm?"

"There's a but, isn't there?"

"You know me too well," said Kaito, gently ruffling Haruto's hair. "But the thing is, you'll need to use your power. These... _wormholes _are formed by connecting points within space."

"'Wormhole'? What a funny name."

Kaito shrugged. "They're like the bridges I used to make."

"Oh!" Haruto glanced around the room. "So do I... try to find the inside of here and the inside of home then smoosh them together?"

"No, there's no inside in this world."

"...Really?"

"Really. That's why we have to use the outside."

"Oh," said Haruto. "So that's why I can't find it."

"So he hasn't adapted," Astral blurted. "But we've been here..."

"Adapted?" asked Yuma.

Astral's eyes flickered to Kaito and Haruto, the former watching them warningly and the latter bumbling on about how strange the world was around him.

"It's been five of your years," he said. "Kaito and I have both become accustomed to the absence of a fourth dimension, but we—I thought it was age, I had no idea Haruto still searches for it..."

"Maybe that's related to his sickness?"

"Perhaps."

Haruto's explanations finished in the background, Kaito drew himself to his feet. "Orbital-7!"

Yuma blinked; upon entering the house, he hadn't noticed when the ivory robot was deposited. From its post by the front door it took a few moments for it to wheel into the side room, but when it did it immediately lifted an arm in choppy salute.

"You called, Master Kaito?" it said.

Kaito gestured to a spot beside Astral, in the middle of the room. "Stand there. You will be an anchor."

"A—Anchor? Are you going to try...?"

"Yes. Go."

Expression still slightly startled, Orbital-7 did as it was told without complaint. Kaito then turned to Haruto and began whispering a series of instructions into his ear, Haruto nodding every now and then, interjecting with the occasional question.

It was only after the third time Kaito asked Haruto for confirmation, followed by the younger trembling as he got to unsteady feet, when a realization pierced through the mists of confusion swirling through Yuma's mind. That was it—even though Yuma didn't have the faintest idea on the details, the idea nothing but a theoretical plausibility, Kaito did and took charge in swift ease. Kaito knew what they would need to do to return to the dimension they came from, which meant...

They were leaving.

Yuma licked dry lips as he watched from the furthest wall, given directions to get out of the way. It had been five years. Five years since he met Astral, and encountered the others by extension. Five years since he'd found a purpose that nobody tried to impede.

Standing to either side of Orbital-7, facing away from each other, Kaito and Haruto closed their eyes and bowed their heads in eerie unison. Their arms were lifted, and energy began to swathe around their forms. It radiated the otherworldly quality Kaito often possessed, but it was the first time that Yuma could feel it against his skin – so cold and crisp, with a fundamental twinge of _something _that, to define, would be like asking the Earth to stop moving.

He stumbled when the ground shifted beneath him. Then his eyes widened as he looked around, watching the waves rise and fall, rippling outwards from the Tenjo brothers' location, and saw everything in the room moving as part of the swell other than the four occupants inside. Yuma fumbled, trying to find a handhold – any handhold – to stop him from falling.

Haruto coughed, and both the waves and the energy came to a halt. Then he shook his head and the instant was gone. The energy level rose again, supplemented by the sensation of utter stillness from Kaito's command of time, though this time Haruto had his head tilted back and the ground didn't sway.

Instead, a black pinprick appeared, suspended above Orbital-7's head. Neither Tenjo could see it, as it was between them, and Yuma would have overlooked it were it not for Astral's keen attention. The pinprick grew slowly, millimetres at a time, and it was only when it was the size of a fly did it become obvious that it was more similar to a splotch of _nothing _than a suspended ink orb.

Yuma had been so enamoured by that tiny splotch, so engaged in his thoughts of how something could be nothing even though there clearly had to have been _something _eating all the light yet not turning the Earth inside-out, that he didn't notice Haruto stiffen, eyelids flickering in agitation. He didn't notice the faint quivering of Haruto's jaw, whispering words that none of them could hear, and he didn't see the quaver shaking in those tiny fingers.

He did notice when Haruto yelped and tumbled to the floor. The splotch, almost the size of a small plum, was quickly left to fade away as Kaito sprang around to stop his brother from rolling and cradled him in his arms. Yuma lost sight of the two then, doubled over from the sheer force of Kaito's abrupt release on the reins of time, the restart hitting him as a punch to the gut.

"Haruto! _Haruto!_"

"...b-brother?" mumbled Haruto. A rumple of fabric; Yuma uncurled himself just in time to see Haruto clutching at Kaito's coattails. "Brother, I..."

"What's wrong?"

"I... I can't find it!"

"What?"

"Home. I—I started making the opening on this side, like you said, but then I looked for home and I... I..."

"You can't find it?" said Kaito.

"Y-yeah."

"Then maybe you ran out of energy – you feel a little—"

"No! It's not energy, I just... I can't _find_ it, brother! _It's not there!_" Haruto sniffed, eyes scrunched shut to suppress the urge to cry, then he wrapped his arms around Kaito's waist. "I looked for home, and home's gone."

"Don't worry," said Kaito. "It's not gone, Haruto, it's still—"

Haruto closed his eyes. "It's gone, brother. We—We'll never go home."

"Haruto—"

The reason why Kaito broke off wasn't evident to Yuma until Haruto was suspended between both arms and then set atop the bed. The child was far too pale, shadows under his eyes darker than usual, and his chest rose and fell with intermittent pause. Kaito spun to face Astral, his face a turmoil of distressed emotions.

"_Numbers!_" he said. "Spares?"

Astral placed a hand to his chest and closed his eyes. "White Knight Illuminator. No. 10."

"What happened to No. 56?"

"Used."

"_When?_"

"When that... Ryoga was here. That is his name, yes?"

Kaito's eyes narrowed as he looked toward Yuma, but concern for Haruto visibly overrode any displeasure and he turned his attention to Astral again.

"No. 10, then," he said. "Do it, now!"

Astral nodded, once, before hovering across the room. Kaito stepped aside to make room, bringing him closer toward Yuma's direction, as the blue spirit set a hand over face and sternum. The harmonising process took less than thirty seconds, but each of those seconds was filled with nervous anticipation.

Finally, Astral moved back and the glow dissipated. A sigh of relief swept through the room's occupants as Haruto looked alive again, all colour returned to the now-sleeping form.

Then Kaito spoke. "Outside."

"Huh?" said Yuma.

"You look after Haruto," said Kaito, shooting a glance toward Astral's direction. Astral nodded, and Kaito turned to Yuma again. "You. Outside."

Yuma did so. After instructions were given to Orbital-7 to resume its post, he followed Kaito into the area that served as both the kitchen and the dining room. He hadn't even taken a step onto polished tiles when the Numbers Hunter pivoted and grabbed his collar.

Then he was lifted into the air by arms that shouldn't have held so much strength, suspended high enough that his toes barely touched the ground.

"I've had enough of you, Yuma Tsukumo," said Kaito. "Five years ago you promised to help us return to our home, yet you have constantly wasted our time with those _gimmicks _and endangered Haruto's life."

Yuma wanted to speak, to defend himself, but the grip tightened against his jacket and the fabric twisted against his throat. It was not enough to cut off his supply of air, but enough that the thought of speaking became unbearable.

"We do not need your aid," Kaito continued. "We never needed your aid. You have been given long enough and many enough chances to prove yourself, and you have failed."

"No—just... I..."

Kaito's expression contorted murderously again, and he knocked Yuma into the wall. "Shut up. You brought that man here, you wasted our resources, and Haruto could have _died_. Of all your previous actions, this is completely unacceptable."

He let go then, allowing Yuma to fall to his feet. Yuma coughed, one hand held to his neck, and leant back to use the wall for support.

"Ryoga," said Yuma, just as Kaito began to leave the room. "Don't hurt him."

There was no response, but the Numbers Hunter did come to a stop. Spurred by the sign that his words were being heard, Yuma continued on.

"Don't hurt him, Kaito. Not—Not the way you destroyed the doctor who diagnosed Haruto before."

Neither of them moved for the next few seconds. Yuma didn't want to break the moment, didn't want to give the Numbers Hunter another reason to go after Ryoga's blood. Finally, slowly, Kaito turned his head the smallest fraction to look at the hot pink kettle on the counter, and then turned again to stare at Yuma from the corner of his eye.

"Tell Cathy I won't be present for her dinner," he said.

Yuma blinked at the non sequitur, just as Kaito turned back to the hallway. "Where are you going?"

"Away."

As the footsteps disappeared, Yuma dropped to the ground and crossed his legs. He searched for his cellphone, and when he heard the dial tone ringing while he lifted the device to his ear, he couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

_Yeah, Kaito_, he thought, an instant before Cathy answered from the other end, _you've changed._

* * *

><p>"You've found them."<p>

A statement, so simple, so innocent, were it not for the cinematic air. Dozens of displays installed upon the walls were the only sources of light in the room, breaking the darkness into many different shades. Artificial light shone against the two occupants, flickering in intensity and tone as the screens changed, highlighting features that would usually be in shadow and obscuring those that would be seen. It was a sight more befitting on the silver screen, but a necessity for the processes undergone behind the scenes.

"Yes," said the other man. The poor lighting cast his face into a bundle of white lines, one side of each wrinkle lit and the other dipped in shadow.

"Neo Domino City?"

"No – the Satellite. It's a matter of time until we pinpoint where the disturbance originated."

"Are you sure this will work?"

"It has to. This is our last chance to set things right."

There was a moment of silence as the two men watched the screens. Command lines were executed and models were generated before their eyes, all controlled by the invisible hands of software created far too long ago.

Then the first man turned to face his colleague and bowed, the action moving thick lenses away from the light and exposing eyes once shrouded by the reflective glare.

"No matter what happens," said Mr. Heartland, "I'll be by your side, Dr. Faker."

"Until the end?"

"Until the end."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review. :)<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Merged some of the old chapters so they're no longer as short. Deleting the old chapters doesn't seem to have gotten rid of the reviews, though, so... I dunno how this is going to go, review anonymously? :/**

**Beta-read by mah partner in crime, Chimera17/The 17th Chimera.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight:<strong>

The young woman that entered the airport terminal could have been any other tourist as she ascended the escalator, having collected her baggage from the carousel on the lower level. Her green hair fell down to her shoulders, style complimented by a slim, white jacket, and she wore the barest amount of jewellery on her person.

She would have been any tourist, were it not for the fact that her ticket was purchased by an anonymous stranger, scheduled for use on any flight convenient, sent to her via email.

"Would you require some assistance, ah, Miss Mizuki?"

Kotori Mizuki turned around from where she once looked lost, to see an unfamiliar lady smiling in her direction. The lady wore an orange uniform above dark jeans, printed with a gaudy logo on her left breast.

"Sorry," said Kotori. "How do you know my name?"

"Your luggage."

Kotori followed the gaze to her pink suitcase where the swing tag sat in full view.

"I apologise," the lady continued, "that was rude of me."

"Ah, no, that's fine."

The lady's smile didn't falter, not once. "Would you be interested in a world-class tour of Neo Domino City? We feature visits to some of the greatest landmarks on Earth, all via private coach, including the Infinity Monument—"

"No, no," said Kotori, quickly. "I already have plans."

"Are you sure? Our prices are the cheapest—"

"Yes—I have to go, sorry."

Kotori pushed past her, going well into the concourse. It was on her third turn in her search for an information desk when she almost crashed into a person leaving the men's bathroom.

She bowed. "Ah, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't see—"

"..._Kotori?_"

Tentatively, amber eyes looked up to meet blue. Whilst they were shadowed by the rim of a cap, and the face was obscured by an upturned collar, the familiarity in them could not be mistaken.

When she spoke, her voice was as incredulous as his own. "Fuya? Fuya Okudaira?"

"It _is _you!" Fuya exclaimed. "It's been a while."

"Three years, I think."

"No," he corrected, "two and a half."

"You look much better," she said, then had to suppress a flush when she realised she was checking him out. "Not that, uh..."

"It's alright. I never thanked you, did I?"

"Ah, it's no problem."

Fuya dropped into a low bow. "Thank you very much for saving my life."

"Geez, you don't have to go that far."

When he straightened again, he had a most unfamiliar smile: dazzling, enviously photogenic, and he carried a confidence excluded by few. "'I can't possibly lie to a pretty woman like you.'"

"What's that from?"

"Oh," he blinked, and it was gone, "ah—it's one of the lines by the Sparrow, when he confronts the Red Stiletto." He paused. "Oops, I don't think that's aired yet."

"Another superhero?"

"Yeah."

Kotori smiled. "You play a lot of them."

"I can't help it, the directors always ask," he answered, though a small, wistful hint of something ghosted across his expression. "I guess the fact I can do my own stunts saves quite some money."

"Are you here to film?" asked Kotori.

"No, just promotion. We finished the last of it a month ago."

Without reason, Fuya froze. Then he pulled back his left sleeve to check his watch, and as if needing confirmation, looked around the terminal until he found the digital clock on the wall.

Kotori looked as well. 9:13 AM.

"I need to go," he said sheepishly. "I'd give you my number... except I just switched numbers, and I left my phone with my manager."

"Your manager? Isn't that..."

"Yeah. But ma retired, so she doesn't act anymore. Where are you going?"

"Seeing a friend. Except I don't know where he is or where he lives, so I don't know where to go."

"You can come with us," he offered. "I mean, if you want to, of course."

"Are you sure that's alright?"

"Sure. I'd like—I'd like to introduce you to ma properly instead of going behind her back this time, now that I can."

"Okay," she said. "Where to?"

* * *

><p>Kaori Okudaira made for an intimidating first impression. With her youthful looks accompanied with a hardened gaze and authoritative voice, she could be firm, commanding and stunning with nothing but her gaze alone. That gaze was currently turned against Kotori on full blast; as it scrutinized her, she had the faintest feeling that her presence was unwanted and she'd best leave.<p>

It was unfortunate the Fuya had been hustled into the van before any chance of an introduction longer than 'Ma, this is that person I told you—'.

"So you are the girl who helped Fuya?" said Mrs. Okudaira.

Though the question seemed more of an answer, Kotori replied anyway. "Yes, Mrs. Okudaira. My name is Kotori Mizuki, it's nice to meet you."

Mrs. Okudaira stared her down for a few more seconds, then turned to the driver in the front of the van and began to shout instructions. There were shouts of reply from beyond the outside the vehicle's confines and Kotori peeked around the bumper to see another industrial van stopped aside.

She must have been watching the play-by-play for at least a minute, because the van closest to her opened its back doors, blocking her view of the one behind, and a person jumped out. It was only when they turned around to close them did Kotori realize it was Fuya. The dark blue and black outfit certainly was a large jump from the white and blue costume of his ESPer Robin days, and he held a sleek visor and headset in his hands.

"So?" he asked, walking over. Then he struck a classic ESPer Robin pose, though his outstretched hand contained the headset rather than a whip. "What do you think?"

"It's very... technological," she replied.

"That's because the show's set on a future Earth where superpowers don't exist and technology is used instead. That's the general gist, anyway."

"Fuya!" admonished Mrs. Okudaira, who had searched around after the doors closed and the van shook, finding the source of the disruption. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Kotori hasn't seen it, so I wanted to give her a look at The Sparrow," said Fuya.

Mrs. Okudaira placed a hand to the side of her forehead, brows creased in anxiety. "There's no time for that. We're already ten minutes behind schedule."

"I thought I was scheduled for 1PM?"

"No; they need us arriving at eleven thirty."

"It doesn't take that long to get there, even in peak hour."

"We were going to confirm our lodgings first, but there's not enough time." Mrs. Okudaira turned and bowed respectfully in Kotori's direction. "Thank you for helping my darling little Fuya, Miss Mizuki."

In the corner of her eye, Kotori noticed that Fuya had pouted a little after his mother addressed him with such affection. A small, reflexive smile drifted across her features, and when Fuya glanced back at her, she ducked her head and ended up returning Mrs. Okudaira's bow.

"It was no problem," repeated Kotori. "I liked being with him."

Mrs. Okudaira shook her head. "I was rash when I took him away, and I apologise."

"It's fine, I shouldn't have—the time I spent with him was enough." Kotori bowed again. "Sorry for disturbing your schedule, I'll take my leave now."

"Wait!" exclaimed Fuya. The other two turned to him, and he flushed slightly in embarrassment. "Ah, that is—erm, could Kotori come with us, ma? I thought... because of her help..."

There had been an element of surprise in Mrs. Okudaira's expression after the question had been posed, and Kotori, startled, quickly raised both her arms dismissively. "N-No, that's okay, really, I don't—"

"You don't know where you're going now, right?" Fuya continued. "You can come with us and call your friend on the way. It shouldn't be too much trouble—right, ma?"

"No," said Mrs. Okudaira, slowly. "No, that's a lovely idea, Fuya." She turned to face Kotori, actions far more confident than they had been moments before. "I'm sure the two of you would enjoy spending time with each other a little more if all those times he'd sneak out the building were any indication."

At that, Fuya grinned, a combination of sheepish and embarrassed.

"Are you sure?" asked Kotori. "I wouldn't like to trouble you, or anything..."

"It's the least I can do."

There was a pause, followed by hesitation, as Kotori weighed up her options. Whilst going with them seemed like an obvious choice, a reluctance to burden the two accompanied the decision. In the end, she nodded.

"Okay," she said, drawing her suitcase closer slightly self-consciously. "I'll go."

* * *

><p>There was a certain wonder which accompanied seeing actors in person, bringing to life the characters who should have only belonged behind screens. As Kotori packed her phone away, she glanced through the curtains and back to the stage, where The Sparrow and the Red Stiletto greeted the crowd.<p>

Her D-Gazer, linked to the event's main computer, vibrated in the pocket of her skirt; the cue to begin. Onstage, the two actors bowed – no doubt having received their own signals – then exited through either wing.

Fuya grinned and winked at her when hidden, something she returned with a smile of her own. Then the lights dimmed, before returning at full blast: the show had begun.

Kotori hadn't pretended to know anything about the series, and she wouldn't have denied being clueless about the interaction between both actors as they played their parts. So she kept watching Fuya, someone she did know, and watched how he melded into his character with enviable ease, performing actions and saying lines the real Fuya would never do.

"He's wonderful, isn't he?"

Kotori jumped. Mrs. Okudaira must have finished whatever business kept her occupied because she stood not a metre away, eyes watching Fuya just like Kotori's own. An unusual purple D-Gazer sat over one eye, showing lines of mirrored writing she could barely decipher.

"Yeah. He really is," replied Kotori. "It's hard to imagine he wanted to quit back then... quit his own life..."

"I pushed him too hard," Mrs. Okudaira murmured, almost too soft to be heard. "It was a mistake, if only I—"

"Everyone makes mistakes, Mrs. Okudaira. That's how we learn, and next time, you'll know."

"If you hadn't been there, there wouldn't have been a next time at all."

Kotori turned to her and saw the 'what ifs' washing through her mind; the worse-case scenarios and those far too close to reality. Fuya's performance no longer mattered, the show no longer relevant, only the thoughts of things that could have happened differently had the smallest action been changed.

"Don't regret," she found herself saying. "No matter what you do, don't regret. Don't think of the past—everything's okay now, right? There's nothing needing concern."

She found Mrs. Okudaira staring at her again, and didn't turn away. It was not the scrutiny from earlier that day, but a gaze of respect and searching for understanding.

Finally, Mrs. Okudaira smiled. "Seems like I have more to thank you for, Miss Mizuki."

"Please, call me Kotori."

"Alright. Kotori, then," she replied. "Are you sure you don't want to watch from the VIP area?"

"No, this is fine. I'll probably get lost among the fans."

Mrs. Okudaira laughed, though it sounded more like a huff, as she eyed the gathered crowd. "I suppose you could say that."

Anything else she wanted to add was cut off by a beep from her D-Gazer, and new lines of mirrored text replaced the old. Mrs. Okudaira blinked in recognition, then frowned.

"Did something happen?" said Kotori, when the older woman began to leaf through her clipboard.

"A... few things need to be taken care of," came the distracted answer. Then their eyes met again, and Mrs. Okudaira continued. "Would it be alright if I left you with Fuya for the time being?"

"I'm okay, don't worry about me. You should go."

Mrs. Okudaira nodded before hurrying away, leaving Kotori alone again. The music onstage, once thrumming, began to evolve. Bases shifted to trebles, melodies swelled to those of higher design, and, as the tension peaked, the fight between The Sparrow and the Red Stiletto froze; a climax before the final strike was dealt.

_"How can you possibly understand the hand Fate has dealt me...?"_

_"I understand... because I feel the same! I'll stop you—I'll stop you for your own good!"_

Then the fog machines to the sides, once puttering slowly, released huge plumes of grey and white. The lights dimmed, the two figures were left hidden in smoke and darkness—and the crowd groaned when the actors began leaving the stage, left hanging at a cruel cliffhanger before the match would be completed.

When Fuya stepped backstage again, his expression carried exhaustion beneath satisfied pride. The visor was taken off, and a hand run through his hair. He took the towel from atop the cases of bottled water nearby, grabbing a bottle for himself, then drank more than half without pausing to breathe. The rest of the water was poured down his face, which tilted in a way so that any liquid could avoid his costume entirely, the familiarity in the action suggesting frequent routine.

"So," he said, once his face was wiped dry, towel spinning in his hands. "What did you think?"

"It was... interesting," she said. "Really similar to Robin."

The towel was placed back atop the bottles of water. "You could say the show's similar, yeah, but the characters are completely different. Robin was a superhero, and The Sparrow is an antihero."

Kotori was about to reply when she caught sight of two figures at the other end of the stage – two women both clad in skintight red vinyl. One had some bulky electronic eyepiece covering her eyes, situated atop her raised hood, whilst the other held an identical eyepiece in her hands and a lowered hood revealing dark hair and full lips. The first woman removed the eyepiece and pulled her hood down, but, in contrast, her hair was a golden yellow.

Just as the two women began to converse, Fuya spotted Kotori's line of sight and the confusion undoubtedly written in her expression.

"Miss V is a gymnast," said Fuya.

"V?"

"The blonde one. Her name's a little long, so we all call her V. She does all the Red Stiletto's action work for Miss Miya, who does all the acting."

"Oh," said Kotori. "Wouldn't it be cheaper just to cast a gymnast in the first place?"

"Probably. I don't know what happens in the casting department, maybe they had to have Miss Miya in the role. She graduated from the Julliard School in America last year, and she's very good."

Kotori turned to look at the two women again. Miss V had gotten her own bottle in the meantime, and Miya was facing an unfamiliar man – her manager, likely – whilst tucking her hair underneath the hood.

"Did you call your friend?" asked Fuya abruptly.

Kotori reached for the phone in her pocket, but dropped her hand when she realized it moved. "Yes, I called her right before you began performing."

"'Her'? Didn't you say you were looking for 'him'?"

"I don't know his number," she admitted, "so I called his sister."

"I see. I guess you're leaving after this, right?"

"Ah—no, actually... I don't know."

Fuya blinked. "Eh?"

"Well, it's funny..." she began, "I got my plane ticket by email, sent by someone anonymous for 'use at any time', and it was confirmed by the airline when I called to make sure. She was in Neo Domino so I thought it was from her, but when I called she said she returned to Heartland a few days ago."

"Very strange," commented Fuya, his expression something considering. "Did you get a location?"

"She said something about... a Minet Towers?"

"Minet Towers?" Kotori spun around, to find Mrs. Okudaira standing behind her. "Were you going there?"

"Yes," Kotori replied. "After the show's over."

"Then you can go with us. It's our next destination." Then she looked to Fuya. "You need to be on stage in half a minute."

"A—_ah!_"

Kotori glanced to the other side, where only Miss V remained. She looked back to see Mrs. Okudaira fingering her son's hair back into position, even as Fuya fumbled to get the visor on, and finally the two were done and Fuya gave them a grin before closing his eyes. When they opened, they were fuller and sharper, and his aura was assertive as he strode toward the entrance with only a confident nod to mark his departure.

When his retreating form vanished, his presence on stage echoed by the roar of the crowd, Kotori sighed. "You're right. It's amazing."

Mrs. Okudaira glanced at her. "What is?"

"Fuya's acting. It doesn't seem like anything until you see it up close. It's like he becomes the character being played, it's incredible."

"Maybe you're right."

"Maybe?" Kotori turned to her. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know that Fuya never went to school, correct?"

"Yes, he mentioned it. But...?"

Almost distractedly, Mrs. Okudaira removed her D-Gazer and pulled out a cleaning cloth from one pocket, before wiping down the electronic display. "Did you know? It's no coincidence he seems to become the character. That's how he was—that's how _I_trained him. That's likely why he was selected to be The Sparrow."

"Then, you mean..."

The D-Gazer was clicked back onto her face, then Mrs. Okudaira turned and sent Kotori a slightly taut smile. "Don't think anything of it. William," she called, in a direction beyond Kotori's ears, and the younger woman spun to see a stagehand entering with a large crate in his arms, "please follow me, I'll show you where to take them."

The stagehand called William nodded. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Enjoy yourself," Mrs. Okudaira said to Kotori, before she disappeared. "Consider it thanks for everything you've done."

Kotori tried to have fun, she really did try, but the unsettling feeling in her stomach never disappeared – whether it be from alienation by a series she didn't understand, or Mrs. Okudaira's unexpected openness, she wouldn't know. As time passed, she could only narrow it down to the feeling of something, _something _off in the world despite being surrounded by friends.

And that something was Yuma.

Finally, the show was over, and most of the crowd was gone. Those that remained were devout fans clad in black and silver, red and blue, more often than not attempting to sneak through to meet their stars. The crew began to collate their equipment, equipment which would be transported ahead to their next location courtesy of the third van, leaving the other two free for personal use.

Kotori followed Fuya into his van, and took one of the empty seats across when he sat down. He bounded up immediately, hopping to the back and reaching across her suitcase to pull out two bottles of green tea. One was tossed across, and Kotori managed to catch it without fumbling, then he returned to his seat again.

That was when she felt the keen sensation of being alone. There was enough noise outside the vehicle to mask any sounds from within, and it would be at least a good fifteen minutes before anyone else would approach. She had just turned away from the view through the windscreen, about to ask for more clarification about his mother's words—

—when she caught sight of closed eyes and noticed the soft, level breathing escaping through his lips. The thin limbs melding seamlessly into the chair, and the head tilted back despite the bulk of the headset never removed.

Kotori smiled. Her questions could wait, sleep would be first.

* * *

><p>Minet Towers were not the tallest buildings she had seen, and not the most grand, especially not for a building in the Central Hub of Neo Domino City. Kotori had been slightly underwhelmed upon catching sight of them. Only two things were notable enough to distinguish them from other skyscrapers of their kind – a gable roof design up top as opposed to the more popular terrace, as well as a flight of emergency stairs on the exterior of the shorter – and she was not particularly fond of either. They were odd, certainly odd, but nothing spectacular or particularly stunning.<p>

It was when the van approached the shorter, then slowed to a stop, that Fuya woke.

"...Ma?" he mumbled sleepily, and a hand attempted to rub at his eye but was impeded by the visor that hadn't been removed. The other hand snaked up to the back of his head and fiddled idly with the headset's clasp, and then the device was removed and placed to the side. "Where are we?"

"Just arriving at Minet Towers, dear," replied Mrs. Okudaira from the driver's seat, as she gingerly manoeuvred the van into a parking space a little too small. "Sleep well?"

Fuya yawned. "Mmhmm."

"Kotori?"

Kotori jumped, looking away from the scenery and toward Mrs. Okudaira. "Y-Yes?"

"Your friend is here?"

"Yeah, he should be."

"Alright, then," she said, and then the engine came to a halt as the keys were removed to be placed in a breast pocket, "we'll just get our lodgings organized first, after that we'll try to help you find him."

Kotori bowed. "Thank you very much."

Upon leaving the carpark, and entering the building properly, it was no longer the unassuming design that sat in her mind. The interior had what the exterior lacked; a sense of charm, a certain flair which separated it from every other skyscraper in the city. It was not opulent; there were no incomparably high ceilings, gold-plated pillars or even excessively luxurious lounges atop shiny marble floors.

Rather, as much as Kotori sought for the perfect description, the only term that arose in her mind was class.

Simple limestone tiles adorned the floors, walls a darker chestnut but made of the same, lit by a series of small but bright lights sprinkled underneath the ceiling. In one corner, aside contemporary coffee-coloured chairs, some tall, slim pot plants grew, a few more dotted around the hallways and even two perched beside a flight of emergency stairs.

Why there were emergency stairs both inside and outside, she didn't know. Nevertheless, it was nothing but a passing thought, born from curiosity as she followed the two Okudaira to the front desk, her pink suitcase trailing behind.

Someone was already there, a young woman talking to the receptionist and leaning on the counter. A few words were exchanged; a hand in a black satin glove drawing a few strands of grey hair behind one ear; and then the conversation was over and the young woman stood up and turned to walk away.

Only to stop as she caught sight of the three, then instantly jumping back in surprise, hands closed daintily and raised level to her neck as if she were a cat in distress.

"Could it be?" the unfamiliar woman asked, and her slit-like pupils dilated intuitively for the briefest time. "Perhaps, are you Kotori Mizuki?"

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, so Fuya made this chapter go completely off-track... he was only supposed to have half, not the whole thing. But if there's one character too cute to argue with, it's him. There's no complaining about it, right? ;D<strong>

**Trivia time: The Julliard School is a reference to the Juilliard School in NY, one of the best acting schools in America. Also, The Sparrow is the dub name for D.D. ESPer Robin.**

**Please review. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Changed the summary so it was comparatively more immediate and relevant to chapter one.**

**I also have a tumblr blog for my fanfics now, too. It contains further information that might cater to your interests, and if you have the time, I'd love to hear from you – your theories, your thoughts, everything. Not that you can't leave them here. If you're curious, the link is on my profile. :)**

**Beta-read by The 17th Chimera.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine:<strong>

The last major earthquake in Neo Domino City occurred four years ago.

From then to the present day, the rate of recovery was tremendous. A skyline that had been a junkyard, a scattered puzzle set with pieces that once consisted of the skyscrapers before, was now a jungle of glass and steel trees reaching toward the sun. No trace of the original destruction remained – not in the Central Hub, the business centre of the opulent metropolis.

Kotori knew Cathy Beaumont. A poorly photocopied article about her had been handed across in a sheaf of other articles intended for disposal, during her first weeks working at Net News. It spoke of how Cathy, at the age of fifteen, the daughter of an incredibly successful billionaire property tycoon, borrowed ten million yen from her father with the intent of building her own empire.

Which led to the question; how exactly did Yuma fit into the life of such a person – a person who was so extraordinary, yet found the ability to welcome a stranger into her home all for the search of a missing friend?

Behind Kotori, the door clicked open. She turned around, and her breath hitched; there was no doubt. No doubt as to the newcomer's identity at all.

_Yuma._

There must have been a part of her expecting the Yuma from five years ago. There was something wrong, something beyond wrong at his appearance; at the features once soft now well-defined, at the tense yet weary lines in his stance as he looked about the corridor. Then he spotted her, and he narrowed his eyes—

—and those red irises – once bright and filled with life, the only thing she looked forward to some days – now appeared darker as if they themselves changed colour, and there was a dangerous aura that couldn't have been present but _was_.

"Akari sent you, didn't she?" he snapped, not even giving her a chance to speak.

Kotori resisted the urge to defend herself; it wasn't the time. "Yuma—"

"Save it," he said, turning to leave. "I don't care."

"_Yuma._"

He stopped, though he didn't turn around. Spurned, Kotori continued. "Why won't you come back?"

"...I have university courses I have to finish first."

She blinked. "University? What—you left with nothing, how can you go to university?"

"Kotori," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets and stepping around to face her. His expression was acquiescent, and his fatigue never looked stronger. "Do you have anything to say, or should I go and get on with my work?"

Hesitation. Then; "...Why, Yuma?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this? Don't you know how upset your grandma was when you left all of a sudden and came here on your own—what happened?"

"What makes you think something happened?"

"Don't change the subject. I've been with you for years, I can help you if you let me understand—"

"Shut up! You'll _never _understand."

"That's not true. I can help."

"If you mean help by walking out on me again."

Kotori took half a step back, close enough to the window behind her that she felt glass pressed against her fingers. "I never—"

"You _did_, Kotori!" cried Yuma, his eyes now a blazing inferno, and the raising of his voice more involuntary than defined. "I told you, I _told you_, and you didn't believe me!"

"You—" she gasped; "You're still hung up on 'Astral'?"

Whatever Yuma had been about to reply, he was cut off as soon as he opened his mouth by the sound of another voice talking. "Is everything alright, I heard shouting—"

Cathy's words stopped as soon as she turned the corner and spotted the two.

"Oh," said Cathy. Then she strode forward and placed a hand on Yuma's shoulder before resting her head atop it, and he tensed briefly before relaxing – far more relaxed than he'd been when he'd walked through the door. "You were yelling, is everything alright?"

"Why is she here?" he asked.

The creature slumbering in Kotori's mind gnashed razor-bladed teeth at how her childhood friend neglected to mention her by name, even delivering the question so there was only one intended target despite the amount of effort she put in to tracking him down.

Cathy didn't notice, moving her arms so she was draped over him from behind. "I found her in the foyer looking for you, so I asked if she wanted to come in."

"What gave you that idea?"

"You're friends, right?"

Yuma sent Cathy a look out the corner of his eye. "I told you. Not anymore."

"Looks like I was mistaken," said Cathy. "Then," she added, as she detached herself from Yuma's form and smoothed out her elegant black dress, "I'm sorry for troubling you, Miss Mizuki."

Kotori didn't answer; she was still staring at Yuma, her mind processing words that couldn't have been exchanged.

They weren't friends.

Not anymore.

"Not... anymore?" she whispered. "Yuma, what are you—"

The next few moments happened so quickly they could only be comprehend after they passed.

Yuma's eyes had flashed at something beyond her head, and he'd run forward to push her aside, shouting a rapid "Get _down!_".

As she'd stumbled and fallen, rammed by the force of his blow, she could barely see a look of distress on his features as he unlocked the latch keeping the window closed and pushed it open, a gust of cold air entering as he did so.

Not even a second later, an object hurtled through, directly through where she was once standing, and Yuma closed and locked the window again.

Then the object unfurled; a tall man rose to his feet. The tailored grey trenchcoat, highlighting a heavyset torso; the powerful shoulders, where an ivory-coloured electronic backpack was wrapped firmly around; and the sinister glare when he glanced toward Yuma standing a metre away, that she could feel as if she were the target of the gaze herself—

—everything about the man was unfamiliar. He was not the kind of everyday person that would be passed in the street; heavy boots and fingerless gloves and a punkish hairstyle swept to a point only affirmed the thought the man wasn't on the right side of the footpath. A punk, a delinquent, or even a gangster.

She never met him before – and could bet that neither Akari nor the rest of his family did either.

In the instant that Kotori glanced toward Cathy, to gauge her reaction to the man's appearance, the man spoke.

"I will be leaving, Tsukumo."

"What—?" exclaimed Yuma, and there was a genuine element of astonished disbelief, so much emotional stability in his voice that hadn't been present when he'd spoken to _her_, his childhood friend; disbelief all because of the strange, foreign man. "But Kaito—"

"I am leaving. I can no longer trust the Prince's life in your hands; I will find the answer on my own."

Yuma stepped forward. "I can still help." When there was no answer, he continued. "Let me help you, I can still..."

"This is Master Kaito's decision, Tonma," said the backpack—an AI robot?

The man called Kaito didn't react. "Quiet, Orbital-7."

"Understood."

There was a click as one of the utility boxes affixed to the grey trenchcoat was opened, then Kaito threw a folded envelope in Yuma's direction. Yuma caught it easily, and when he unfolded it his eyes widened in... fear?

"This..." he muttered.

"If you insist on helping, you may help this way," said Kaito. "Until then." He turned and bowed stiffly in Cathy's direction, adding, "thank you for your hospitality."

"You're leaving," asked Cathy, and Kotori was startled at the level of seriousness in that search for confirmation.

Kaito nodded. Then, walking toward the window – and Kotori shuffled out of the way without being told, watching Yuma do the same – the man unlocked it, slid it open, before stepping up to the ledge and leaping outside. Rather than landing on the emergency stairs Kotori spotted earlier, the AI robot transformed into a great gilder and he soared away into the distance, lifted by heat currents reflected from the ground.

"...I'm going to my room," said Yuma, before either of the two women had a chance to speak, still staring at the envelope in his hands. "Cathy... Kotori."

As Yuma trudged away without waiting for an answer, Kotori's eyes trailed along his path down the corridor and around the corner...

...and passing an equally silent Cathy as he did so.

Cathy and Kaito. Both people she'd never met, but Yuma somehow befriended despite them being on opposite ends of the spectrum.

"Miss Mizuki?"

Kotori blinked, and turned to Cathy. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry that your reunion didn't turn out the way it should have been," said Cathy. "If I had known, I wouldn't have done anything."

"It's alright," said Kotori, though the creature in her mind growled and snapped as it recalled the purposefully indecent interaction between the two and demanded to know how sorry Cathy truly was. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"Do you have somewhere to stay?"

"A-ah..."

"If not, I wouldn't mind if you took one of my rooms for the night." Cathy smiled, so genuine that the creature was silenced in an instant. "Consider it an apology."

"Alright," Kotori replied, and bowed. "Thank you very much."

* * *

><p>When Kotori woke up the next day, Yuma was gone.<p>

There had been no message, no letter, nor any indication other than the closed trapdoor. Kotori had woken up, wandered to the kitchen for some water, only to find Cathy sitting at the counter wearing nothing but a fluffy white robe with hair unclipped and falling in disarray. A steaming cup of milk sat in her hands, something she spent longer nursing than actively drinking.

"He left," she said simply, leaving Kotori as to no doubts on the subject's identity.

Even so, she voiced it out loud for confirmation. "Yuma?"

"Right, nyan." The nyan was tired, tacked on as an afterthought.

"What?" asked Kotori. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Did he say when he would return?"

"No."

"When does he normally get back?"

"...Miss Mizuki," said Cathy, as she turned to look in Kotori's direction. "He didn't go out. He left."

"L—Left...?"

"He had his bag packed and everything," continued Cathy, looking down at her milk again. "He probably isn't coming back."

"Then do you know where he is?"

Cathy shrugged. "Who knows. How did you sleep?"

"A-ah, alright," said Kotori, thrown by the change in topic. "The building is really nice."

"Really? I'm glad you think so. Minet Towers were my first—they could use some improvement, but they're sentimental."

"I see..." Briefly, Kotori trailed off, then a thought occurred. "Could I ask you something, Miss Beaumont?"

"That depends," said Cathy, and she finally drank a little of her milk. "You can ask, but I might not answer."

"...ah. Of course."

"What is it?"

"Well, I was wondering—did Yuma mention me while he was here?"

"Hmm~" Cathy purred, as the question was mulled over. Then she gestured to the empty stool beside her. "Sit, sit, it's a little awkward with you standing."

As Kotori did so, somewhat uncomfortable amidst the red and white checkerboard walls, at the kitchen counter with all the atmosphere of a confessional, Cathy downed a little more milk as if it were something far stronger and sighed.

"I'd hate to disappoint you," she began, and as always that phrase had a certain mechanical rhyme to Kotori's ears – the kind of sentence said only to mark the worst yet never echoing its intended meaning, "but he barely talked about you at all."

"Oh."

"Don't get me wrong. It wasn't that he _didn't _talk about you. He just didn't do it often."

"What... do you mean?"

"Miss Mizuki, you didn't have to come all the way out here to try and help him. You're a good friend. I still don't know the full story, but... I think – have you heard that 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions'? – I think that's where you two fell through."

Kotori wanted to ask her more, but Cathy rose to her feet and finished the rest of her drink.

"I'm sorry I can't stay longer, I have business to attend to," she said, and placed the empty mug into the sink for later. "Do you need to stay another night?"

"No, it's fine. I sorted things out last night. Um, Miss Beaumont?"

"Cathy. Please."

"Cathy... would you have any idea of where Yuma could be?"

For a moment, Cathy paused, tapping her lower lip. Then she smiled. "Maybe you could try Neo Domino University, I think he mentioned it a while ago."

Kotori bowed, the two women exchanged their thanks, and – with a bottle of water in hand, insisted upon once she remembered her reason for entering the kitchen – she left the house with her luggage trailing behind, intent on leaving it with Fuya in his suite until she returned from her next destination.

* * *

><p>She'd asked the main offices, been told that no personal information could be disclosed, spent the better part of an hour walking around the buildings and grounds, but Yuma was nowhere to be found.<p>

For her efforts, she did gain an encounter worth the time spent searching.

"Kotori?"

The voice was more familiar than Fuya's had been, though called from further away in comparison, and she couldn't help but think of how it was the fourth time in two days that someone had recognized her before she recognized them. She turned around, then did a double-take.

"Tetsuo!" she exclaimed, hurrying toward him.

Takeda Tetsuo's unmistakable build remained the same as she remembered it; no longer round as it had been in his teenage years but, through fitness, controlled into a sturdy frame. A game of soccer was underway behind him, none of the players marked into teams though their tactics showed there were two teams on the field, and it was a game Tetsuo departed from with one or two catcalls left in his wake.

"Sorry about that," he muttered once he reached her, scratching the back of his neck. "What are you doing here? I thought you were doing an internship back in Heartland."

"I am," she said. "I'm actually looking for Yuma, Akari and Grandma Haru've been really concerned. Have you seen him?"

"Not today," Tetsuo replied, apologetic. "Though if anyone would know, it's Todoroki."

She blinked. "Todoroki? As in Takashi?"

"Yeah. They do Engineering Advanced together."

"_Engineering? _Was... was Yuma interested in that before?"

"If he was, he never showed it," replied Tetsuo, a little quickly. The reason became obvious; he lifted an arm and took a step forward, before calling out, "hey, Todoroki! _Todoroki!_"

As what had to have been an older version of Todoroki stopped in his tracks before jerking in surprise, Kotori wondered how she missed the blue hairstyle that could have been cut from one of their old school photos and pasted into the future. Todoroki adjusted the strap of his bookbag and ran toward the two.

"Tetsuo," he greeted, "and is it... Miss Mizuki?"

Kotori nodded. "Did you just finish class?"

"No, I was in the library. What brings you here?"

"She's looking for Yuma," said Tetsuo. "You seen him?"

"We don't have class until Thursday," said Todoroki, apologetically. "Why?"

"We've been worried about him back in Heartland," answered Kotori.

Todoroki frowned. "Ah."

"...Ah?"

"I've had a bad feeling for a while. Believe me, Kotori. He isn't who you think he is, or who you want him to be. He's been hanging with the wrong crowd – in summation, there's nothing you can do."

"The wrong crowd..." said Kotori. "Do you mean that man called Kaito?"

"Kaito?" asked Tetsuo, glancing across to Todoroki. "Do you know?"

"It wouldn't be any Kaito I'm familiar with, no," came the answer. "But I don't know Yuma very well at all; actually, I was referring to a new roommate of his, Ryoga Kamishiro."

Kotori's mouth moved without her realization. "Kami... shiro?"

The name itself was maleficent, whether the _kami _stood for god or paper or anything more, flowing off the tongue like icy needles in a biting snowstorm.

"I overheard him saying he went to South Heartland College," Todoroki continued. "You should be careful."

"R—Right."

The three of them continued standing for a few awkward moments, not sure what to add to the conversation. Todoroki must have sensed her distress, as he began to talk again.

"You must remember to analyse this logically, Miss Mizuki," he said. "It is completely possible that Yuma only came into contact with these two men recently. Did you see him interact with either of them?"

Kotori nodded.

"Then," and here Todoroki lifted a finger to emphasise his point, "it is only an issue of analysing how they interacted. It is simple from there to summate the level of influence these people have had on Yuma's wellbeing."

_"I can still help." Desperation. "Let me help you, I can still..."_

"Does this help at all, Miss Mizuki?"

"Y-Yes," said Kotori, nodding slowly. "I should—I should go. I... have a flight to catch."

Tetsuo nodded in return, though his expression remained grim. "Sorry about everything, Kotori. Thanks for dropping by."

"I'm glad," added Todoroki, "that I could be of service."

* * *

><p>In a dining room fit for twenty, the two remaining residents left on the tenth floor sat on either side of the grand, sturdy table, facing one another. They were not eating – in fact, nothing sat before them other than a glass of chilled milk and a glass of water, the two merely knowing such a meeting was inevitable and needed to be resolved.<p>

"There's something I've been wondering for a while," said Ryoga, looking across idly.

"Oh?" prompted Cathy.

"There are too many coincidences around you."

"Really? Of what sort?"

"Too many to be an accident."

Cathy shrugged. "Accidents all happen by chance."

"And if there is no chance?"

Briefly, Cathy frowned. Ryoga continued.

"You are never present when Tsukumo, I or Tenjo were together and discussing. If you would be, you always made an excuse to leave."

"Are you bugging my house?"

"No."

"Then how are you so sure?"

"Tsukumo has no classes on today, yet you suggested Neo Domino University. And with his income completely relying upon yourself, there are no benefits to his leaving, nor means for him to do so. He would have needed to go through you in order to leave at all."

There was no response at first, and though Cathy had a hand over her eyes and the other clenched into a fist on the tabletop, she didn't give any indication of responding further.

Then, she said: "You realize you're challenging me at business, Kamishiro." Ryoga remained silent, especially at the formal designation of his name, and she slowly lifted her head to face him, eyes clouded. "Are you going to continue?"

"Personal is personal," answered Ryoga. "If it is not personal, it is business. There's a difference."

"There's no difference," Cathy shot back. "And now, you have your business."

Ryoga nodded stiffly. He hadn't gone in looking for sympathy.

"You still haven't addressed my point, Kamishiro," added Cathy. "How is this all related?"

"Everything links back to you."

"Only circumstantial."

"I certainly haven't been in every meeting and checked for your presence, but from those I know and those I've heard secondhand information on, there emerges a pattern that links back to you. What I want is simple: I have reason to believe you know about what Tsukumo is doing, and I want to know."

Cathy watched him for a moment, one finger tapping at her bottom lip. Then she shook her head, faintly amused.

"Kamishiro," she said, "you raise some good points, but that's not how you make a deal. There is no structure, you lack a certain adaptability, and there's a vital flaw in your theory."

"Vital flaw?"

"If I always make an excuse to leave the room when you begin talking, how should I know what goes on inside?"

Ryoga flinched.

"I respect your privacy, so I don't eavesdrop," she continued. "That's why I leave. Yuma's been through a lot of trouble, so if I can help him I try to help him."

"You could be lying."

"All this time – to you, to Yuma, to Kaito, even to that Kotori, I have _never _lied."

Ryoga did not reply. He shook through self-anger, at completely compromising his own position for little gain of his own, and despite the muscles twitching in his face he kept his mouth closed and his limbs restrained and he did not reply in any shape or form.

Then, keeping the tightest of controls over his person, he rose from his seat and inclined his head.

"...Thank you for your hospitality."

"You're welcome," replied Cathy, cheerfully, as if his pride had never been hurt. "You're leaving?"

"Yes."

"I'll walk you out."

Ryoga knelt down for the backpack resting atop the floor. "It's fine."

Nevertheless, Cathy walked with him until they reached the second-storey overhang.

"Kamishiro," she said. He had his back turned to her and didn't turn around again, but stopped to show he was listening. "You're really smart, you know? Just don't challenge people until you've got more than a bluff you happened to overhear."

Ryoga descended the staircase to the lower floor, leaving no reply. And as he opened the door, and the heavy bell resting atop the edge was disturbed, ringing its resonant chime, he slipped out without a second word to avoid the soft pattering of feline footsteps heading his way. As the cats and kittens frolicked on the lower level, batting playfully and – as they were trained – remaining there for someone to appear, Cathy turned and leant backwards against the railing.

Blue cerulean walls greeted her, and aside, they formed the mouth of a hallway leading to a series of rooms; rooms silent and empty.

She sighed and closed her eyes.

"Alone again, eh?"

* * *

><p><strong>Please review. :)<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Note: 'Heartland' refers to the circular area, the whole place is known as 'Heartland City' (sometimes colloquially 'Heartland'). As much as I think the opposite is far more convenient, this is the canon, so I be sticking to it.**

**Beta-read by The 17th Chimera.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten:<strong>

As the first sight of Heartland City broke through the clouds, that colourful dreamscape of blinding technicolour, with buildings that seemed more from a picture book than what was possible in reality, Yuma gripped his fingers into the armrest on either side. The awestruck gasps from tourists did not filter through the web of apprehension woven without will, a web of apprehension that only spurned larger and grew more intricate after every passing second.

He could feel how much he'd changed since he'd left, now more than ever, as the sights rekindled memories he thought were buried beyond reach. Cities couldn't change as rapidly as people; Heartland remained the same as it always was, that pearlescent bubble frozen amidst the currents of time. As much as Yuma sought to see something new, a subconscious desire for his change to be acknowledged, he saw nothing.

Only the memories of expectations he was to fulfill.

Even after the plane touched down on the tarmac, a strip within Heartland itself, and its passengers milled out, Yuma found himself reaching for his neck; reaching for thin air.

As he dug in his pocket for the invitation slip confirming entry into the heart of Heartland City, the distinctive metallic sensation of the Key jostled against his leg, even though it sat within the envelope's folds. Yuma hesitated, but returned to his senses at the outstretched hands of the city personnel, and handed across the slip and his D-Gazer.

"Yuma Tsukumo, sir?" a voice asked, breaking his thoughts.

A man stood before him, an impossible smile gracing the person's features, and if it were any other place but Heartland the blue-orange pinstriped suit would have been obscure. Both objects were in his hands, presented toward Yuma's chest, and Yuma hurriedly clicked the D-Gazer back onto his eye and returned the slip into his pocket, careful not to brush against the pendant inside.

"Yes?" he replied.

The man bowed, and gestured away from the wall. "Right this way."

Few thoughts were running through Yuma's mind, as the two stepped onto a moving floor and quickly went underground. One was that he should have been observing everything, observing the scenery, as only the truly gifted or truly affluent were granted access to Heartland, and he ought to take note whilst he could. Another questioned why _he_, of all people, had access to such an area, though he knew why, and knew it was his duty.

The last thought that he was able to isolate, before a light emerged at the end of the tunnel and marked where the moving floor stopped, was the presence of a never ending well of discomfort underlying everything he did.

Astral was not there. Kaito was gone. Everyone else he'd left behind or been left behind by.

The moving floor led to a large concourse, one level below ground. Pot plants and blue plastic chairs sat atop a mosaic of winding lines and splashes of colour, a mosaic spiralling out to each corner and growing ever larger as it did so, engulfing those who dared walk atop its domain. A row of booths took the furthest wall, all kept shut with metallic grates except one in the corner, and it was there they were headed.

Then there was a blinding flash of light, and a loud shutter-snap that had Yuma jump behind the arm he'd raised to protect his eyes but couldn't remember lifting. When his vision refocused he saw his guide staring down the person responsible – and it had to be a stare, as those grins were permanent accessories part of the uniform.

"Sir, you cannot take photos in this area—"

The perpetrator, the only other person on the floor who didn't belong to staff, curled one hand around the lanyard across his suit and tilted his head back so their eyes met.

"I have permission."

Now the beret no longer kept the perpetrator's face in shadow, Yuma couldn't help but notice purple eyes of the kind he'd never seen before. They were not like Akari's eyes, they were richer, and rather than amused exasperation they excluded self-confidence and possessed a dangerous aura.

His guide seemed to have the same idea; the man's smile faltered briefly, and he bowed without looking at the affixed tag at all.

"U-Understood!"

"Good," said the perpetrator, pulling his beret down. Then he snapped another photo of the two, and smiled. "As you were."

The words had a noticeable effect, as the guide suddenly snapped to attention and that grin was fixed in place again.

"Yes, Yuma Tsukumo, sir," he said, "if you would please follow me."

They reached the lone booth without further incident, though Yuma glanced back several times to see that the perpetrator had moved on to taking photos of literally anything and everything; from the checkerboard mural on a wall to the sign pointing toward the toilet doors. Within the booth, the woman bowed at their approach, and the twin matching smiles on both personnel raised the possibility of a training camp dedicated to smiling in ridiculous clownish uniforms.

"How may I help you?" she asked, voice melodic to the point of artificiality.

"Our last wild card," said the guide.

"Ah! I see. Thank you, I can take over from here."

The guide bowed once in Yuma's direction before walking away, back in the direction of the moving floor. Yuma couldn't help but notice the wide berth as the man strove to avoid the last occupant in the room; was the photographer really that imposing?

A clatter of keyboard keys had him look back to the woman in the booth, who had drawn up a screen beyond his line of view.

"D-Gazer, please," she said.

Yuma obliged. The device was scanned, the results displayed, then he was back in possession of it within seconds.

"Yuma Tsukumo of Heartland City, E District, correct?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Alright. May I have your invitation?"

The slip was fished out of his pocket again, and handed across. She smoothed the crumpled printout carefully, handling the paper the way most people handled fragile artifacts, before placing the matrix barcode beneath a scanner and then deftly typing for seconds that were minutes long.

Then the computer dinged, and Yuma could make out the faint shape of a tick in one corner.

"Congratulations!" the woman said, and somehow her smile grew even larger than it had been before. "You have been chosen from all of the city's residents, and officially eligible to be wild card two in the National Duel Championships!"

She obviously expected some fanfare, some cheering, or something of the sort. When Yuma only rubbed his fingers to try stop their tingling in anticipation, her smile deflated—by _millimetres_.

"We'll have to run through some things before you're accepted, though," she added. "May I see your deck?"

"My deck?"

"All decks need to be registered so that there's no cheating between duels, and checked to avoid counterfeiting. If you please?"

Yuma snapped open the deck box at his waist, and it was an action that hadn't been performed for ages but felt far too familiar beneath his fingertips. It was passed through the window by the opening at the base, and he watched as she lifted the lid on a machine beside her and placed it into its maw. With a soft hrum it passed each individual card through to a slot on the side, the image of each appearing for split seconds on a screen with a large green tick beside.

Then all forty-two cards were parsed, data saved into the system, and she returned the deck but kept her hand outstretched after it was claimed. "And your Extra Deck, please."

Yuma froze. "...Ah."

"Did you have an Extra Deck?"

"Y—yes!" exclaimed Yuma, "yes, I do. Could I—check it, see if I need to make some changes?"

"Certainly."

As soon as he reached into the box on his other side, he felt what he feared sitting on top of all his other cards. When he pulled the cards out, sure enough, his sole Number sat tucked behind.

Hesitation gripped him once more.

He knew from experience that there were no problems with counterfeiting, though as the Numbers were not printed they still somehow followed I2 guidelines; his concern lay in the effect a Number had on other people. Emotions would be warped at the slightest touch, and Yuma had every intent to stay under the radar as long as possible.

But he could not remove the card, if he was to win. Extra Decks were resources, and duels were unpredictable.

Yuma shuffled the Number so it sat sandwiched between the other cards, hoping it would be enough to shield the aura, then handed his Extra Deck to the woman behind the counter.

"Please be careful, most of the cards are borrowed from a friend," he said, and it wasn't a lie.

She nodded and reached for them – and it was then that Yuma finally noticed she wore gloves – and as her fingers clamped around them and no reaction occurred, he released a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding. After his Extra Deck passed through the machine, two alert boxes popped up on her screen. Smile unfaltering, she closed both and turned back to Yuma.

"Four of the cards have different card backs, and they're in Italian," she said.

He knew they were in Italian, but, "Card... backs?"

A gloved hand reached for a green plastic slip infixed between the machine and the wall. As it was placed before him, he identified the chip embedded in one corner and activated the AR Field on his D-Gazer. The picture of two card backs appeared, a deep brown he recognized and a golden galaxy he didn't.

"These," she said, pointing to the golden galaxy, "are the new-generation back designs released a few years ago, to commemorate the centennial of the Duel Monsters card game. Since your cards are in your Extra Deck it's fine, but for future reference, tournament guidelines state that all cards must be identical face-down."

"That means I can't add new cards to my deck."

"Oh, no. Most players use card sleeves to protect their cards as-is, and as they have an opaque back it is perfectly legal to use a mix of cards."

"And the Italian..."

"The Italian is no issue. Duel Monsters is an international sport. But you must know translation errors are no excuses for misplays especially if the card is in another language. Do you understand all of this?"

Yuma nodded, and she returned his Extra Deck to him and the plastic to the wall.

"And your Duel Disk, please," she said.

"We use our own D-Pads?"

"Of course; all duelists prefer it that way."

"Ah. Um. Mine is broken."

"How damaged is it? It may be repaired—"

She trailed off when Yuma pulled his D-Pad out of his bag and held it in his hands. It still bore the damage from when Suit-man tried to punch him; there was still a fractured split along the casing from where the duel field ripped off, and electrical tape, hastily plastered, sealed off each of the exposed wires to avoid short-circuiting.

There hadn't been any time to get it repaired, nor any money spare.

"That won't be fixed in time," she stated, and drew up a keyboard for her screen. "As you are a finalist you're eligible to borrow a duel disk until the tournament is over, but it'll take a while before one is prepared so you will have to collect it tomorrow morning. Would you like to keep that in a storage locker in the meantime?"

"Storage locker?"

A nod, and one gloved hand gestured to the right side of the room. Sure enough, now that he knew what to look for, the checkerboard design was actually a series of integrated cabinets of the upmarket kind, blending seamlessly into the wall with no bumps or grooves to mark they were there.

"All finalists are issued a storage locker, free of charge." She typed a few more commands into the computer and then Yuma's D-Gazer beeped, the small icon of a letter appearing in the top-left of his vision. "Those are the details and your temporary passcode, you may reset it at any time. Now that's all done, is there any information about Heartland that you wish to know?"

"Do you know a cheap place to stay?"

"Certainly." Her fingers flicked upward to call upon a heads-up display, and she scrolled through before pressing a button near the bottom. Yuma's D-Gazer beeped again, and the icon flashed, marking the arrival of another message. "All results on accommodation have been transmitted. Anything else?"

"No."

"Alright. The tournament begins in four days, please arrive here before 8:30 AM. The Opening Ceremony is the day before, though attendance is optional." She bowed. "Thank you very much. I wish you the best for your stay."

Yuma returned the bow. "Thank you."

He re-shouldered his bag and walked to the storage lockers, opening the first message at the same time. Locker AN89. It took a while to identify the designation system for each locker, as they were printed across arrows in two parts to make up the checkerboard lines, but soon enough he found where AN was scrawled horizontally and 89 was written vertically. He pressed the button at the intersection the arrows pointed to and the outer layer of wall flipped up and folded above a safety deposit box tucked behind.

When Yuma entered the temporary passcode, the electronic screen prompted him to assign a permanent one, and he did so. Fully expecting the door to open, he was surprised when electronic characters appeared again:

_Please note that all storage lockers are emptied after seven days._

_Would you like a notice sent to your D-Gazer before then?_

He paused. For a moment he stood there, deliberating, then pressed Confirm and the door finally swung open.

As he was about to place the D-Pad into his locker, he changed his mind. It would be better to enquire sooner and then place it inside once he could swap his old D-Pad for the one being loaned. The locker was closed, still empty, and the D-Pad returned to his bag.

Then he walked back to the counter, with intent of requesting information on repair services in Heartland, and wondered what Astral and Kaito were doing whilst he fulfilled his role.

* * *

><p>The sliding doors opened soundlessly, and were it not for the sudden scope of light entering the secluded room its presence would not have been detected. The footsteps that followed, soft and imperceptible, belied the sturdy, commanding aura of the person taking each one.<p>

When the man came to a stop beside the only other occupant in the room, the doors closed behind them, and any warm yellow light was called back into its grasp and replaced by artificial glare from the array of monitors before them, emitted from the darkness beyond.

"So, Droite?" asked the man, casting a lazy glance toward the screens, then turning his head to the woman who stood elegantly next to him. "You said there was something interesting?"

Droite tucked a loose strand of deep blue hair behind one ear, an action wasted considering a fringe that reached beyond her chin, then her eyes flicked toward him. "He's here."

"You can't be serious."

She didn't respond, merely tapping a key. A window appeared on one screen, replacing what used to be a text-based interface, and as the output loaded and each image appeared, the man's eyes widened.

"He's the one, isn't he?"

Droite nodded. "Just as expected."

"No. 39: King of Hopes – Hope, eh? Detach an overlay unit to negate battle... his defeat, I can feel it..."

Brown eyes flashed toward purple. "Do not get ahead of yourself, Gauche. Remain cautious."

"It's not so tough, and you know it," replied Gauche, scoffing. "It's an Xyz deck, not even an Xyz turbo, and these days all of them are the same anyway."

"Whilst that may be true, it doesn't change the matter."

"What matter? A Number with a five card Extra Deck?"

"You have work to complete."

"I got the missive." Gauche scowled. "It would save a lot of trouble if we could send out the mercenaries."

"They aren't—"

"We both know why they help, because of what they're getting in return. If that doesn't make them mercenaries then I can't feel what would."

"I know. They aren't available."

"Tch."

His eyes returned to the screen, though it was not the deck he looked at but the duellist profile beside it. Name, duellist ID, professional Circuit record, and above all, an image snapped by an overhead pin-size camera, in the foyer beside the stadium.

"Numbers Hunter, Yuma Tsukumo," muttered Gauche, taking in every detail of the oblique figure, from the spikes in his hair to the backpack by his feet. "I feel I'll have a lot of fun before you fall."

* * *

><p>Heartland truly was a city for the rich, a playground for those with money to spare, as even the cheapest hostel Yuma could find cost as much as a normal hotel room in Heartland City. But as he glanced around, he couldn't deny the features despite the shared accommodation. Three bunks to a room – six beds, four of which were free; a bathroom, en suite; a large window casting light onto a modest table; and a stack of lockers for safely storing valuables, though the system was no where near as high-end as the locker before.<p>

The other two occupants in the room barely spared him a glance as he walked toward the free area, the young women far too engrossed as they fussed with their hair to pay him any mind. Yuma threw his backpack onto the floor near the bottom bed before lying down, tucking his head behind the lisp of the top and falling back. There was no point lifting his legs up, as he still had his shoes on, and the shadowed roof keeping up the mattress above was the only thing his eyes were left to see.

An exhausted sigh escaped his lips, and he closed his eyes as he remembered trekking across the city to find shops that could repair. Despite cross-referencing prices, they were still too dear for the money he did have, and repairing his D-Pad would have to wait.

He heard the sound of the door opening and closing, followed by footsteps so soft they were almost lost upon the tiled floor. A smattering of giggles erupted from the two young women, who then began whispering amongst themselves, and it was then that Yuma noticed the footsteps were approaching his direction through the way they rose in volume.

"Hi," said a voice, masculine and laced with smooth undertones. "Is this bed free?"

Yuma opened his eyes to see a man in a fitted blue waistcoat, towing a small travel bag off one arm and carrying a jacket draped over the other. Long silver hair, braided, fell forward over one shoulder, and vibrant blue eyes accompanied a pleasant smile. The man gestured to the bunk bed opposite, and Yuma shrugged.

"I think so," he said. "But I just got here."

The man nodded, then drew the travel bag up against the wall and placed the jacket on the top bunk. Then he turned to Yuma and smiled, extending a hand to shake. Yuma jumped up, forgetting the low lisp, then reeled back as he hit his head against it far too quickly. The resulting jolt of pain was more than enough to make him regret doing so.

"Are you alright?" asked the other man, just as Yuma fell back against the mattress.

He cringed; his antennae would never be the same again. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"That's good. I'm Victor, Victor Romani. You?"

"Tsukumo... Yuma Tsukumo. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Victor nimbly climbed the ladder at the foot of the bed, the action quickened as long legs took every second rung, then sat on the mattress with his back touching the wall. Despite taking the bottom bunk, the distance between the two beds meant Yuma could still see the other, and he watched as Victor reached for his jacket to take out a deck of Duel Monsters cards.

"You duel?" Yuma asked, honestly surprised.

Victor shrugged, flicking through and sorting them before him. "Every so often. It's more a hobby."

"I see. Same here."

Bored, Yuma reached for his backpack to get the D-Pad inside it, then kicked off his shoes and lifted his feet to a cross-legged position. Idly he reached for his deck and picked up the first card, before placing it on the D-Pad's surface and flicking a switch on the side. A green LED lit up, and the figure of Gagaga Magician rose from the surface.

"What's that?" came Victor's voice, suddenly, and Yuma looked up to find the older man staring as Gagaga Magician hovered, awaiting commands.

Yuma flicked the switch off. "Oh—it's nothing."

"That certainly didn't look like nothing." Rather than being accusing, Victor was more intrigued. "D-Pads don't have a native hologram function, it's all augmented."

"Ah—erm, it's been modified."

"Let me see."

"A—"

Yuma cut himself off as his eyes widened. Rather than descending down the ladder, Victor placed his deck to the side and leapt over the railing, landing directly beside Yuma in a movement instantaneous, deadly and far softer than it should have been; so soft that neither of the two women noticed.

Victor rose to his feet, and it was then that Yuma noticed how tall the other man stood.

He extended a hand. "Please let me see that."

The D-Pad was handed across, reluctantly. "Careful, it's broken—"

"I thought so."

Yuma blinked. "Thought what?"

"This is Solid Vision."

"I can explain..."

"No need," replied Victor, inspecting the D-Pad's components. "You must be _gagaga99_."

"What?" spluttered Yuma, "how did you—?"

"You commissioned it from me. The software."

"You're _V-V.R.?_"

"Of course. Victor Romani. Freelance developer, at your service."

"Victor... Romani? Then what's the first 'V'?"

Victor shrugged. "Nothing. VR was too short. Regardless, what brings you from the land of steel to the city of carnivals, lights and never-ending fun and games?"

"What?"

"I sent those files to an address in Neo Domino City. Why are you in Heartland?"

"I..."

Yuma's eyes flickered to the D-Pad, and Victor caught the action.

"Were you going to get that repaired here?" asked Victor. "There are quite a few services in Neo Domino that could look at it for you."

"No; I... I came to enter the tournament."

"Then you know that modified Duel Disks are illegal for entry, correct?"

"Well, she did ask for it but it was broken, so..."

"Consider yourself lucky. If it wasn't broken you would have lost all of my code."

"Lost your code?"

The D-Pad was given one last cursory glance before being returned. "What do you think they do after they take it? All hardware is reformatted to ensure tournament guidelines are met. You have it live booted, yes?"

"Yeah. The code would be fine."

"Not if they dispose of my memory chip."

Yuma paled. "Oh."

"Yes, you're quite fortunate. You'll be borrowing a disk, then?"

A nod.

"The safest option." Then, Victor smiled. "I've been meaning to test my deck for a while, actually. How about it, Mr. Tournament Qualifier? Let's duel."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**Trying something new this time. Hopefully, it's not too jarring. Hmm, I really did want to break the 40k barrier this chapter, but it just wasn't working out - I'd rather not add an additional scene or wall of text just to make up for the four hundred words I'm missing so it will have to wait. :/  
><strong>

**Beta-checking and duel scripting courtesy of The 17th Chimera.**

* * *

><p><em>Five years ago.<em>

"Wait, if I try destroying it with Raigeki Break, you can't activate—"

When Yuma looked up from the table, Astral wasn't paying attention to the duel between them. The spirit's face was worried, if it could feel worry, as it glanced around the room. A wrongness settled in his stomach as Yuma's eyes flickered, as he tried to find the reason. No, the attic was the same. It was his room, the way it always was, filled with his parents' keepsakes in ordered mess, and hanging the lone hammock he slept in opposed to the bed a level below.

However, when his eyes settled on the grandfather clock, he realised exactly why.

There was no noise. No sound of traffic, no sound from countless litterbots as they picked up garbage and sorted it for later recycling. He rose to his feet and walked to the window. Yes—there were cars, cars as silent and as unmoving as the group of litterbots inspecting the footpath.

He looked back at the clock again, as if to confirm what his eyes told him, and saw the pendulum stopped halfway in its fall. Frozen in time.

"_He's here._"

Yuma spun around. "...Astral?"

"_The resonance_," continued Astral, talking to himself. "_Yes. The resonance is the same. But to stop time... no, that's not..._"

"What's going on?"

Astral ignored him and closed his eyes. A wave of power rippled from him, the sheer force sending Yuma sprawling on the ground, but any concern for his belongings was gone after seeing how they didn't even vibrate. It was hard to tell exactly how much time passed without a clock to go by – and could time even pass if it was frozen, and how was it frozen anyway? – but Yuma had partly risen to his feet when Astral's eyes snapped open.

"_The window!_" Astral shouted. "_He's here! Open it now!_"

The force of the shout had Yuma slip and fall as he lost his balance again. The panic was undeniable in Astral's tone, however, and Yuma hurried to the window as quickly as he could—

—and just managed to wrench it open _seconds _before something hurtled through, landing onto the floor of the attic with a soft thud. No, not something; a person.

"So it _is _you," said the new person, clad in blindingly bright white. He held something in his arms, though the ivory backpack on his back obscured any opportunity to see what it was. When he tried to stand up, there was a stumble and a hiss of frustration rather than pain. Proud, ice-blue eyes stared into Astral again. "Get me some water."

Astral turned to Yuma and nodded. That was when the stranger scowled and looked to Yuma's way as if noticing him for the first time. Perhaps he did. Any retort Yuma had on his lips disappeared as soon as that gaze pierced at him instead, immeasurably cold even from the faintest glance, and he quickly descended the rope to head for the kitchen as quickly as possible.

When he returned, it seemed that Astral had explained the situation, as the stranger stared at him with less disdain as he accepted the glass. There was a brief amount of curiosity at the water inside it, and Yuma wondered if he'd perhaps filled it too little or too much. That instant of curiosity disappeared as quickly as it came, and then the water drunk even faster—if that was even possible.

On the other side of the room, Astral was leaning over the hammock, a hammock no longer empty. Before Yuma could look closer, the empty glass was forced into his direction, and he turned to see the stranger give him an expression difficult to understand.

Then he blinked; the white coat no longer seemed as blinding and intense as it had been. Was it his imagination?

"More," commanded the stranger.

Yuma couldn't stop his eyebrow twitching, but at Astral's nod and his own reluctance to stay under the stranger's sharp stare any longer, took the glass and stalked downstairs again. Astral _so owed him._

At some point up the stairs to the second floor, noise from outside emerged again. Whatever had stopped time had started it again, and when Yuma reached the attic he found the stranger waiting. The glass was handed across, but instead of drinking the stranger walked to the hammock and lifted the head of the person lying there.

Astral shifted courteously when Yuma walked closer, and there he could see the young boy that had to have been carried earlier. The child's eyes were closed as the stranger poured water down his throat, most of it dribbling out and down to pool on his clothes—clothes which, to Yuma's surprise, dried immediately, water disappearing in an instant.

Satisfied, the stranger straightened. He sent a nod Astral's way, though his eyes narrowed briefly when Astral returned it with a slight bow. Yuma took it as an opportunity to finally get some answers.

"What the heck is going on?"

It was not Astral that replied, but the stranger. "Haruto is unable to adjust to this planet."

"So you're... an alien?"

"I am Kaito Tenjo, of the Astral World." Eyes flickered briefly in Astral's direction, before he continued. "I have been told of you, Yuma Tsukumo."

"What did you say?" said Yuma to Astral. "You better not have told him—"

He broke off at the sound of a small cough, a faint flicker of life from the hammock behind. Kaito whirled around to check up on the child—to check on Haruto's condition.

"_Kaito is somebody you should listen to, Yuma,_" said Astral.

"You can't just tell me who I should and shouldn't and expect—"

Kaito turned around. "My role is to guard the Prince." A level of pride entered his tone; a sense that _that was what he did_, that was his very _reason _for being.

"The... prince?"

The reply followed, albeit reluctantly.

"...Astral."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven:<strong>

**[ Yuma: 1300 ] - - - - - [ Hayashi: 4000 ]**

"Verz Castor's effect allows me to Normal Summon a second time; descend, Verz Zahhak!"

Zahhak, the three-headed beast, rose from the summon portal, a being once a dragon but scientifically altered to something new. [**ATK 1850**/*4.] It stopped beside a knight in stained white armour, and the knight stood taller and flung out its blade. [**ATK 1750**/*4.]

"Overlay! Castor and Zahhak open the Network—Xyz Summon! Come to my side, _Verz Ophion!_"

A serpent of ice and dark blades soared from the depths on wings of frozen fire, to land by her side. [**ATK 2550**/Rk. 4.] Then, surveying the field, the woman called Misato Hayashi flicked back blue hair to point in Yuma's direction.

"Battle! Verz Ophion attacks your Kuribolt Token; _Black Vortex!_"

"I activate Tasuke Knight's effect from my Graveyard," called Yuma, "special summoning it to end the Battle Phase."

A samurai in red and gold armour rose in the middle of the field, lifting crossed arms. [**ATK 1700**/*4.] The black and red flames rushed its way but it stood still, deflecting the attack, but losing both arm-guards as it did so. It would not be a manoeuvre repeated again.

Hayashi bit her lower lip. "Fine. Ophion's effect, I detach a Material to add Pandemic Contagion Infestation to my hand." Her D-Pad whirred, then the deck holder spat out a card she quickly showed. [Verz Ophion: **Olu. **2 →** 1**.] After adding it to her hand, she shuffled, then picked a card. "One card reversed. Turn end."

As the golden galaxy appeared, a facedown in her back row beside her continuous trap Corrosive Contagion Infestation, Yuma's eyes lingered. He looked back to his own field, at the three facedowns he'd placed in order to empty his hand so he could use Tasuke Knight's effect, and the sheer difference between the two shades of brown was more than disconcerting.

When his fingers bumped into casing, he looked to his left arm to see that he was trying to draw from the hinge. Right; it was not his D-Pad, which he'd dropped off in his locker earlier that day, but the duel disk borrowed, and the deck holder was atop the back of his wrist where his graveyard would normally be.

He drew a card, then paused to calculate his options. Yes... if they were correct, he would be able to win that turn.

"I... activate my set Release Lease, letting me tribute Tasuke Knight to add a level three monster from my deck to my hand."

The duel disk offered his chosen card, and he didn't look as he flipped it over and placed it on his field.

"I summon, Gagaga Girl." The bubbly girl emerging on his field tipped her hat before landing on both feet, and winked amidst a show of pink sparkles. [**ATK 1000**/*3.] "Then I activate the trap Gagagarevenge, which lets me summon Gagaga Magician from my grave."

Gagaga Magician joined his apprentice from a carved wooden coffin, opened by a burst of red sparks. The golden plate across his waist glowed momentarily, an array of eight dots of which four were lit, and they dimmed to become three. [**ATK 1500**/*4 → **3**.]

"Gagaga Magician is level four," said Hayashi, across the room.

"His effect lets me change his level once per turn," replied Yuma. "Now I use both Gagaga to construct the Overlay Network! Xyz Summon," he threw out an arm, "_String Devil Muzumuzu Rhythm!_"

A flurry of red rose petals, a dazzling explosion of bright blue quavers adorned with the String Devil's mark, and the cherubic demon descending from the summon portal plucked a soft tune on its double-necked guitar. [**ATK 1500**/Rk. 3.]

"Because Gagaga Girl and the monster equipped with Gagagarevenge were used for an Xyz Summon, their effects activate," continued Yuma. "Gagagarevenge increases the attack of the summoned monster by 300 points, and Gagaga Girl can reduce the attack of one of my opponent's monsters to 0."

Both Xyz Material orbiting around Muzumuzu Rhythm turned from green to red. A similar red aura bloomed around Muzumuzu Rhythm, and it removed the rose from its mouth to point it in Ophion's direction. The Verz glowed, the serpent roaring as the fire in its wings was absorbed across the field, and it collapsed just as Muzumuzu Rhythm returned the rose to its mouth again. [Verz Ophion: **ATK** 2550 →** 0**; String Djinn Muzumuzu Rhythm: **ATK** 1500 → **1800**.]

"Effect activate, Corrosive Contagion Infestation," said Hayashi, "I return Verz Ophion to my Extra Deck and add a second Verz Castor to my hand."

"Then I activate Minimum Guts." His second facedown rose, and his two Kuribolt Tokens glowed. "By tributing two monsters, I can reduce the attack of a monster to 0."

"Not so fast! Reverse card open, Pandemic Contagion Infestation. My Verz are now immune to other Spell and Traps for the rest of this turn."

Yuma frowned, though it didn't make a difference. "Then I target Symphony Devil Maestroke."

The Kuribolt tokens soared across the field to be absorbed in Maestroke's gilded rapier, and Maestroke threw it to the ground upon the blue electric sparks that followed. The rapier shattered, and Maestroke fell to its knee. [**ATK **1800 →** 0**/Olu. 0.]

"Muzumuzu Rhythm attacks, and by detaching an Overlay Unit, it can double its attack!"

An Overlay Unit was absorbed into the head of the guitar's second neck, amidst the pasodoble strummed against the strings, and Muzumuzu Rhythm leapt into the middle of the field where a spotlight followed its path. [**ATK **1800 →** 3600**/**Olu.** 2 → **1**.]

Hayashi stepped back, as if it helped avoid the blow, her eyes wide. "What?"

"Go, Muzumuzu Rhythm! _Duple String!_"

A flash of light, a whirlwind of petals and music notes, and Maestroke screamed when engulfed by the blow. Hayashi stumbled.

**[ Yuma: 1300 ] - - - - - [ Hayashi: 400 ]**

Yuma cringed as he gently fed the card into his graveyard slot; despite knowing the damage was not real and would not harm it in any way, there was still something wrong about destroying the monster Cathy had entrusted to his care.

"Not yet," hissed Hayashi. "Not yet. I still have my Bahamut. Next turn, you lose."

"No," corrected Yuma, "it's over."

"Impossible. Muzumuzu Rhythm can only increase its attack in your turn—"

"At this time, Minimum Guts' second effect activates. If the targeted monster is destroyed, you take damage equal to its original attack."

"No..."

A column of flames, silver and purple, and though she clamped her eyes shut, she still wore the grimace of those exposed to augmented reality for so long they had difficulty terminating the connection.

**[ Yuma: 1300 ] - - - - - [ Hayashi: 0 ]**

* * *

><p><strong>= WIN: YUMA =<strong>

Eyes watched, their owner still, silent, unmoving, as the victory was claimed and the mini-tournament came to a close. The bistro was small, sitting off the corner of a street and a half, squashed amidst buildings that varied as much in shape as they did in colour, with only five rounds in the competition and naught but a free lunch sitting on the line.

The eyes watched for a few seconds more at the sheer relief on Tsukumo's expression, assessing the emotion, analysing. Then Kaito Tenjo spun, feet moving in a precise, perfect, artful half-turn. There was nothing else to be seen; he may as well have been gone.

_"Then... I swear, Kaito." The determined gaze, the hand clasped to his heart in a gesture with reverence the boy did not truly understand, a promise by a boy who had no one else to care for; five years ago. "I'll get you, and Astral, and Haruto back to your own world."_

Kaito clenched his fists, feeling the paper warp and crumple, but he kept walking. It was one of two sheets within the envelope delivered to the Satellite apartment building, left on the bed in the room off the side; the empty bed—Haruto's room. Haruto, gone, Astral, gone, an empty apartment left in their wake, taken by the man who knew to address the envelope to _The Numbers Hunter, Astral_.

If Tsukumo knew the extent of the situation, that Haruto was gone, and if he used any of his sense, he would have known there was no time to be saving the few hundred yen of his meal.

A torrent of water fell over him without warning. Kaito scowled; almost half his coat returned to grey, and his energy was low. Orbital-7's whines were ignored, half his mind focused on grasping Photon Mode and the other intent on finding whoever was responsible. They would pay.

When he looked up, blue eyes met green set in a round, young face, framed by soft pink curls and visibly distressed.

"Ah, sorry!" exclaimed the boy, leaning as far over the railing as he dared, a bucket held in one hand. "Sorry about that, I should have looked first!"

Kaito did not answer, there was not enough cognitive allowance available for crafting words; stabilisation of Photon Mode was crucial. He frowned. Something about the boy felt _off_, some aura that felt like his personal space was being invaded even though the boy stood some distance away.

"Sorry, sorry," the boy said again, then disappeared beyond Kaito's field of vision.

The aura remained, even so. Kaito closed his eyes. When they opened, his coat was white again and the search resumed as if there had been no interruption at all.

* * *

><p>When the boy drew back, hidden beyond the edge of the roof, any frantic feelings around him dissolved to be replaced with closed eyes and a slow, drawn smirk. He stood, soundless, allowing the soft breeze to play with the twin strands of hair on either side, hair that refused to be buckled down, and he revelled in the peace of the moment no matter how fleeting.<p>

"How was it? Losing to Yuma Tsukumo?"

The words were spoken to empty air, but the boy then stepped around to face the other occupant on a roof empty mere moments ago. They did not reply; a hair tie was undone, two fingers were placed to the bridge of their nose as if adjusting glasses that were not there, then a mesh of bright cyan light unfurled from shoulders down. Washes of blue and white began to pool over the wireframe before the coat's shape fully formed, and then the hand flicked away as a gust of wind blew by.

Any remains of Victor Romani dissipated past the long, silver hair now flowing free.

"A waste of time," said the man.

"How many times did you lose?"

"Enough to know he is not the Numbers Hunter."

"So Heartland mis-aimed?"

"Exactly. Tsukumo may have played No. 17, but he is only a distraction. I will finish him quickly. What of your end?"

The boy threw the bucket to one side, the plastic landing with a loud clatter atop the concrete floor, before buckling a gauntlet onto his right hand. With it, he panned a hand across the air to call upon a projected display, and fingers deftly navigated through screen upon screen.

"About IV..." began the boy. "Is it wise to send him on that errand?"

"What do you mean?"

"It is uncharacteristic of him to be so obedient, brother."

"It's fine. The Emperor will keep him under control, there is no need for concern."

"But V, shouldn't I go instead—?"

"No, III. He needs the break, to let off the steam garnered from the last eighteen years in preparation for what's to come."

III opened his mouth to say something more, but his hand had stopped moving and a faint beep resonated from the display. His eyes flicked across, and his eyebrows lifted in surprise, then he flipped his palm to flip the projection and gestured for it to fly in V's direction.

"Oh, very clever," were the first words to leave V's mouth at the results from their sensors. "Of course. The use of fission and fusion to recycle enough electrons to power the gazer mark – no doubt synthesised also."

It was difficult to tell if V had been sardonic or amazed from his tone. "And water is their fail-safe."

"Yes. That is how they are trained. It's surprising that, for a race so secluded in nature, they can be undone by simple child's play."

"You were the one who found him." _I am not a child._"It's not my credit to take. _Your_ program was what cross-referenced CCTV recognition with Heartland's passport-visa databanks."

"A program to find illegal immigrants; a program to find foreign aliens." V smiled, humour for himself alone. "Found you at last, Astral."

* * *

><p><strong>First on-screen duel of the story, despite it only being a partial one. Hopefully, not one that's also an irritating headache to get through. From here on in, the number of duels will only increase (after all, this is a ygo story), though the plot will not be compromised so you don't need to worry. As for the plot, well... the more answers you receive, the more questions I leave you with in return. Theories, anyone?<br>**

**Please review :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**I've received a lot of feedback from several people (thanks so much!) and it seems there's a major problem in the lack of clarity in my writing style. I've attempted rectifying things this chapter, hope it's better now. Don't be afraid to leave crit; I'm always willing to listen~  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve:<strong>

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," called Mr. Heartland, voice amplified to reach all districts. "You have waited, now it is here—the start of the thirty-fourth National Duel Championships! The digital countdown atop Heartland Tower ticks down! All together; _three!_"

A lone firework whistled when shot into the sky, sound nearly imperceptible amidst the crowds shouting along the countdown.

"_Two!_"

Two fireworks spiralled, and shouts rose in intensity.

"_One!_"

Cheers, screaming, the rest of the firework arsenal discharged into the air; then a string of huge, ringing explosions as they exploded into brightly coloured smoke and augmented confetti fell from the sky. The enlarged hologram of Mr. Heartland flung out its arms, his garish yellow-pink suit brought into full view.

"The parade shall begin! To all residents, enjoy the festivities; to all visitors, enjoy your stay. Together now: _Heart Burning!_"

Yuma idly flicked the channel to the next when scenes of the parade filled the screen. The next channel had a live feed of the litterbots playing their instruments, the very same tune seeping through the window behind him, and Yuma flicked the channel again to stop the irritating duplex echoing within the room. The next channel was also on the opening ceremony, and the one after, then Yuma simply held down the arrow and waited for the channels to change on their own.

When he found one that looked like it reported something other than the parade, he stopped. Then he realised; it was yet another repeat of Mr. Heartland's informatory speeches.

"_...eight contestants, chosen from all walks of life, six finalists from fierce competition all over the country and – as custom – two wild cards picked randomly from within the host city. They come fighting for the title of Champion, they come fighting for our exclusive prize; two of the rarest cards in existence, No. 07: Lucky Stripe and No. 11: Big Eye!_"

Yuma turned off the television then fell back lazily against the floor, and his D-Gazer slipped off his head.

Numbers.

That was why he was there. That's why Kaito had given him the letter, containing the wild card invitation and information on the prizes up for grabs. An unspoken message, an unspoken last chance for him to help them.

To win the Numbers from the tournament, to get Kaito and Astral and Haruto back to the world they belonged.

Yuma reached into his pocket for no reason but to check if the envelope was still there. It was, tucked behind the letter. But when he pulled it out, something metallic drifted past his hand and fell to the floor.

The Key.

It gleamed a golden light when he reached for it, as if reading his intentions; he froze, but for only a second, bringing his other arm around to place the object into his other pocket gingerly.

He turned to the envelope, and the words on its surface. _The Numbers Hunter, Astral._ Nobody should have known about Astral, and knowledge of the Numbers Hunter was not commonplace. Kaito never wrote in _katakana_, refused to write anything but the Astral Tongue, and there was no doubt Kaito had given it to him as a notice. A warning.

_Do not screw up again._

"I won't," muttered Yuma, to himself, in the empty room, remembering sullen stares and whispers of his insanity. "I won't fall again."

* * *

><p>The doors slid open, then slid closed, and Mr. Heartland entered the Tower, his shoes clicking echoes against a linoleum floor and tightly-enclosed walls. It was one of the many side entrances to the building, unmarked on any blueprint, lit sparsely with small lights set into the ceiling. He turned a corner and stepped onto the elevator podium brought to meet him.<p>

As the elevator began to descend, the boy waiting for him began to speak, reading off an augmented display projected above gloved fingers.

"Goods distribution in the public sector is running smoothly. There have been a few problems accommodating the sudden spike in tourism despite preparations but transport has been re-routed so they're no longer an issue. You will need to attend the CED conference in one hour, and construction—"

"Where is your brother?" said Mr. Heartland, without looking his way.

III licked dry lips. "IV is taking a break for a few days. I have his notes, I'll be replacing him."

Briefly, Mr. Heartland's eyes flicked down. "You are aware that the last time he left an innocent woman was killed?"

"Yes, sir. That won't happen again."

"I would hope not. Damage control required far too many resources for us to contain it as a freak accident. Continue."

"Construction of the offshore damper is underway."

"You are supervising?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you will carry out IV's duties simultaneously."

"I—can cope."

"You are expected to."

"I understand."

"The letter?"

"Has been verified and registered under wild card two. Yuma Tsukumo of Heartland City, E District. No. 39: King of Hopes – Hope confirmed in his possession."

"That is the invitation," said Mr. Heartland. "Has the Numbers Hunter contacted us through the letter?"

"I... don't know. It—" III scrolled through the screen frantically, looking for any trace of information. "It's not in the notes brother left behind."

"Then you are useless. Next time ensure they are more complete, else no more breaks can be allowed."

III grit his teeth, unseen. "I understand."

Their descent began to slow. When it came to a stop, the doors before them opened and the two personnel waiting outside broke their conversation and bowed. Gauche was first to rise and step forward, and Droite followed.

"Tournament details have been finalised," said Droite. "Recording and analysis software have been modified to specification."

Mr. Heartland nodded. "Good. Gauche?"

"The situation's dealt with. The Laevatein won't be interfering for a while with the boss finished off, they felt what they deserved."

"Excellent," said Mr. Heartland. "The two of you have duties to attend?"

"Yes, sir." A simultaneous reply.

"Carry on."

They bowed once more, then left through the doors. Mr. Heartland began to walk again, and III followed without request, even as the path began to steep lower and lower and the line of lights above their heads seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer. Soon they passed through another door, entering a round dome far larger than any other room in the building. There were no shortage of lights, no blind spots; every corner was lit with giant floodlights, all for the circular device in the centre of the floor and the ball of energy suspended within two points.

Mr. Heartland took a place beside the other man at the base of the device. III did not follow, recognising the stature for who it was. Instead he took a place beside the doorway at the console stationed there. V looked up from the computer but turned away before III could greet him.

"Mr. Heartland," the man said, and Mr. Heartland bowed.

"Dr. Faker."

Dr. Faker smiled. "You arrived just in time. The experiment is ready." He ran his hands along the cords affixed from the two figures restrained at the base and into the heart of the machine. Then, calling to V, he said, "Astral connection, OK."

V nodded. "Field specifications, OK." He pressed a button on the console beside him. "Sphere initialising."

There was a loud snap, the lights dimmed to darkness. The glowing ball of energy grew from a walnut to an apple, a watermelon, far larger than a watermelon, crackling, more and more energy entering the system with every passing second. When the ball touched the two points in diameter, yellow light became white, red, blue, green, flashing through all hues of the spectrum.

"Yes," whispered Dr. Faker, the lights mirrored in his irises as wide, excited eyes took in the sight. "Yes!"

"Shall we proceed to stage two?" asked V.

"Bionic readings?"

"Sixty percent."

"Then do it. All the way."

A string of text inputted into the computer, and a call: "Affirmative. Particle acceleration initialised."

The crackling shifted in pitch, the motion of the energy changed. Vibrational became translational; movement rather than vibration. Two points on either side of the sphere began pinching together incredibly slowly, forming a shape much like a peanut – and then the middle diminished further in thinness so its proportions were more akin to that of a gourd though both globes remained the same size.

And without warning there was another snap, a loud crack, a fading hum, and the energy disappeared. The room was plunged into darkness. There was the sound of footsteps that could only have belonged to thick-soled boots, and then Dr. Faker's voice resonated all around.

"What happened?" he said. "Answers, Varian. _Now._"

V had already knelt over the console, typing frantically, the reflection of the screen casting his face into ghostly life. The floodlights returned, though the spherical energy did not, and they showed Dr. Faker on the other side of the room as wiry fingers checked the connections between interfaces and cables to ensure there were no mechanical reasons at fault.

"There was not enough power to complete the link," replied V.

"Tch... So close. Reset, but redirect energy from every generator this city has."

Mr. Heartland's eyes widened. "Then Heartland will be plunged into darkness!"

"That doesn't matter," said Dr. Faker. "The system will be completed. You understand what that means, correct?"

"We'll... be able to go back...!"

"And _we_," V interrupted, "will be given access so that we may return to our home world. As agreed."

"Of course," said Dr. Faker. "Now, reset the system."

V returned to the computer, the only indication of his emotions in tightened lips, and began to type. Mr. Heartland and Dr. Faker began to converse, their words too soft and they too far for any to reach other ears, and III took the opportunity to step closer to his brother. One glance at the screens showed an amalgamation of lines and instructions written in pastel shades atop black, written in a language III had no hope of understanding.

"How can you take it, brother?" murmured III, softly, amidst the sound of typing keys. _The superiority_, he wanted to add. _The exploitation of power, the words, the tone, IV's constant exposure..._

"Do you hate it?" came V's reply.

"No, but... I don't like it."

"And what is _it_'s opinion?"

"...It has none."

V returned to his feet. "That is all that matters." He turned around, and when he spoke it was no longer a whisper. "Reset unsuccessful."

Dr. Faker frowned. "Why not?"

"Too much Astral energy has been used, thus bionic readings are too low."

Dr. Faker's eyes narrowed. "So the Prince is not enough after all. Have we been contacted by the Numbers Hunter?"

"No," said Mr. Heartland, sending a frown III's way. "But the invitation has been responded to."

"Then it is only a matter of time before he comes for the Prince," said Dr. Faker. "Until then, I will conduct more scans."

"Do you require my presence?" asked V.

"No. You do... whatever else Mr. Heartland requires you to do."

V inclined his head. "Very well."

"Then, I will take my leave," said Mr. Heartland. "III, I will not require your assistance until lunchtime. By then I expect full understanding of the notes left behind."

III bowed. "Understood."

"V," said Mr. Heartland, "shut down the system, then continue working on the network as you see fit."

"Understood."

Dr. Faker left the room, Mr. Heartland following behind. V spun to face the screens again and began to type. One by one the giant floodlights turned off, extinguished into the dark, and the hum of the machines died down.

As they made to leave, III spoke.

"What about those two?"

"The Astrals?" III nodded. "We leave them. They won't escape; the Prince can barely stand."

"Okay."

When they left the room and locked the doors behind them, there was a beep. V extracted his PDA from within a pocket and flipped it open.

"_One new message_," said an electronic female voice. "_Your first round opponent has been decided_."

V barely gave it a glance and snapped it closed, before putting it away.

"Aren't you going to see who it is?" said III.

"No," came the reply. "I already know."

* * *

><p>"Yuma Tsukumo," murmured Dr. Faker.<p>

The two of them were travelling down one of Heartland Tower's many corridors, aside one another, letting the moving floor do what it was designed to do. Mr. Heartland glanced in the other man's direction, where Dr. Faker stood with Yuma Tsukumo's file open before him.

"What about him?" he asked.

"He possessed the invitation, but only possesses one Numbers. You noticed this too, didn't you?"

"Yes," Mr. Heartland admitted. "But it's only one Numbers in the Extra Deck he registered. He might have more on him."

"I wonder..."

There was a pause. Mr. Heartland prompted him further. "What is it?"

"We assumed our bait was sufficient enough to draw out those who desire the Numbers, especially the Numbers Hunter."

"It is. Signup statistics jumped this year compared to the NDCs of other prefectures."

"But why is he the only finalist with a Numbers card in his possession, and only one?"

"The trap was too obvious," concluded Mr. Heartland. "Yuma Tsukumo is only bait for the real Numbers Hunter behind him."

"A distinct possibility."

A wave of a hand, the file slid shut and disappeared into nothingness, and Dr. Faker looked forward once more.

"Well, no matter," he said. "So long as we have the Prince and the letter hasn't been compromised, the Numbers Hunter will show himself eventually. Then, we will restore things to how they were."

"The Varians believe—"

"They can only believe what we've told them, and we can only believe what they say. Nothing. Our trust works the same way."

"Heartland wouldn't be the way it is without them."

"No. For that purpose, they are useful. But we can't do anything until the project is complete."

"They will return to their world?"

Dr. Faker nodded. "And we will return to our time."

* * *

><p>The Bridge was once a small network of warehouses and docks positioned below one of the tertiary roads of New Daedalus, an old private shipping area on the fringe of Neo Domino. Now it sat unused, abandoned; oil spills tainted the water, spreading stopped by barricades and the direction of the current, caught up in assorted garbage and debris. In the economical chaos following the earthquake, no funds were spared on cleanup or reconstruction.<p>

Ryoga did not linger amidst the faint toxic fumes or the acrid sting forming in his throat, nor the sun shooting sharp rays through to his cells. He didn't need to look past spraypaint and graffiti to find the letters labelled on each of the warehouses, merely pushing open the door to the one on his right.

Ginji and Tokunosuke looked up when he entered and threw his backpack to the ground, disregarding the dust that rose in return.

"The news," said Ryoga, simply. "Is it true?"

"Well," replied Tokunosuke, "that depends. What news?"

"That father's dead."

Ginji sighed. "Yeah. He was trying to increase our territory so he took the Emperor head-on. There must have been a snitch 'cause they had a trap ready and everything."

"The Sword was at the head of the ambush," added Tokunosuke. "Excalibur. He's only reported to work within Heartland. It's not certain whether or not he chose to appear just because the heirs are all outside the city."

"Rikuo and Kaio are still in Neo Domino?" asked Ryoga.

"Presumably. There's been no word from Heartland, at least. Invicil," said Tokunosuke, and turned to face the fourth person in the warehouse, a young man with light hair and one of his personal contacts, "got anything?"

Invicil looked up from his laptop for the first time for hooded black eyes to hover over Ryoga's person. "No. Only false."

"What are you doing?" said Ryoga.

"Binary. Debugging fails," said Invicil, engrossed with the screen, in a tone as if the words explained everything. "Compiling."

Before any more questions could be asked, there was a knocking against the door. Ryoga stiffened, reaching for his new switchblade. Behind him, Ginji rose warily to his feet, and Tokunosuke shifted. The knocking paused, then continued. Ryoga glanced around; there was another exit, but the door was closed. To open it would draw unwanted noise and attention.

They were careless.

The knocking stopped, as if the person realised they could try opening the door. Ryoga watched the knob turn, the hinges give way, the shadowed foot amidst the shaft of bright light begin entering the warehouse—

—and then froze at the sight of lean features under red-gold hair. It was familiar. Something in his memory he couldn't quite recall, a startling sensation that threw him completely off-guard.

"Is T.K. here?" drawled the stranger, maroon eyes scanning the interior in bored precision.

"Depends," said Tokunosuke. "What're you here for?"

The stranger glared at the sunlight behind him, allowing the scar down his right cheek to shine in the light for the briefest second, before entering and closing the door shut behind him as if he were invited. He reached inside his jacket. Ryoga tensed. When the hand withdrew it held a packet of cigarettes and the other hand began to search inside the pocket of faded jeans.

The lighter was found, an unlit cigarette put into his mouth, and the stranger answered whilst trying to strike a flame. "A delivery from V."

"V?" said Tokunosuke suddenly, stepping forward. "You must be IV. Our meeting was in an hour."

IV shrugged around a cigarette now lit. He took a drag with eyes closed and mouth curled into a scowl, then removed it with two fingers. His tongue snaked out as if trying to get rid of the taste. "Then you can fucking get it an hour early. Damn," he added softly, glaring at the smoke, "fucking hate these."

IV reached into his pocket again, to bring out a laser disk, and he held it in his hand. "This is for you. You get initial access of the code to verify its contents, I'll unlock it after you pay."

"As usual, then," said Tokunosuke. "Ginji."

"W-What?"

"Get the disk."

Ginji frowned. "Hey, why me?"

"You're closest."

A grumble, but the redhead approached IV without complaint. The disk was handed across lazily, then Ginji walked back and gave it to Tokunosuke, who tipped his head in Invicil's direction. Invicil took the disk without a word of thanks before loading it into his computer.

Ginji sat back down on a crate, Ryoga leant against the wall. He turned back to look at IV, and saw the man chewing on the end of his cigarette with a scowl. IV was young; he couldn't have been any older than eighteen. How could they have met? In Heartland?

Ryoga stopped searching his memories for any recollection. If he didn't find anything, it wasn't worth finding.

"Password," prompted Invicil.

"Payment," said IV, equally as succinctly.

Tokunosuke turned to Invicil. "Is it right?"

"Yes."

Tokunosuke reached into one of his many pockets. Ryoga blinked at what he removed.

"A cheque card?" asked Ryoga. "That's traceable."

The cigarette fell out of IV's mouth. IV snorted, stamping it out. "If we _could _be traced we'd be long found," he said. Then he held out a hand. "Pass it over."

Tokunosuke walked across. IV took the cheque card and a scanner from his pocket before plugging the chip into the machine. There was a beep: IV glanced at the screen, then tossed the cheque card back to Tokunosuke.

"Password's _phantasm_," said IV, pocketing the scanner, then turned to leave. "Later."

He left. When the door closed behind him, the four of them were alone again amidst the sound of Invicil's typing.

"This location isn't secure," said Ryoga, immediately. "We have to move."

"No need," said Tokunosuke. "Nobody comes here."

"That IV guy did," added Ginji.

Tokunosuke shrugged. "V's services come with delivery. He tracked us down."

"Then others can track us down also," said Ryoga.

"So long as you have a D-Gazer, or anything connected to a network, you can be tracked anywhere," came the reply. "V has the network codes. He's always been reliable. You don't have to worry."

"We should move," insisted Ryoga.

"Oh, we'll move. To Heartland, if the software's all working. Invicil?"

"Downloading. Last fifty messages from Rikuo's D-Gazer and location information," said Invicil.

Ginji started. "Shit—what the...?"

Ryoga's eyes widened. "Network access." He paused. "Logs are saved in individual D-Gazers and don't go through the network."

"They can go through the network if they're requested—"

"No," said Invicil, interrupting. "NEBULA finished compiling."

"NEBULA?" asked Ryoga.

"A trojan. It pretends to be a firmware update, works with any D-Gazer connected to the internet. Any data in the system can be sent to my computer," said Invicil. "_My _program."

"Then why pay V?" asked Ginji.

"Invicil might not have finished," said Tokunosuke. "It's also much more likely they'll detect something's wrong if their uploads start to jump. Access to Heartland's network gives us live conversation and location data with our own connection."

"So we have access to Heartland's network," said Ryoga.

"Location and conversation data. That's all I paid for."

A carnivorous smirk grew across Ryoga's expression. As if sensing the change in mood, Ginji stood up.

"So," he asked. "We're ready?"

Ryoga rose from his position leant against the wall, and hands that were tucked in pockets fell empty to either side. He nodded.

"Everything's set. It's time for us to return."

* * *

><p><strong>BEEP.<strong>

_One new message. Your first round opponent has been decided._

Yuma cracked open an eye. He reached for his D-Gazer, wincing at the cricks in his back from lying for so long against an unforgiving tiled floor. He stood up. The message itself was all policy and code of conduct which he skipped over, until he scrolled to the end and saw the name.

He stumbled; the D-Gazer slipped through his fingers and clattered on the ground.

_VICTOR ROMANI_

* * *

><p><strong>When in doubt, name everything after ygo cards shot (Invicil/Sky Scourge Invicil) I hope the speed of this story isn't dragging or anything. :/  
><strong>

**Please review :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**So I've once again taken part in the long tradition of writing rather than working: the procrastination train. Because the recent episode previews have gotten me scared and writing as fast as I can. So here you go. (Long chapter is really long oops but no complaints, right?)**

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! :)**

* * *

><p>"I use Gogogo Giant's effect, changing it to defence position in order to summon <em>Gogogo Golem <em>to my field," said Yuma.

The monster was turned on the tabletop, then Gogogo Golem summoned by its side. Neither lingered long; fingers awkwardly lifted both cards off the surface and placed them atop one another.

"I overlay both level four monsters." There was no grand opening of the overlay network, when there were no augmented images or holograms to add to the display. Yuma simply thumbed through the Extra Deck on the table and chose one of the five cards there. The sixth was hidden within their box, not to see the light of day. "And I summon _Symphony Devil Maestroke _in attack mode."

Victor sighed. "Maestroke flips Vanguard facedown, destroying my Mage Power and both Fighting Spirits, right?"

"Yeah," came the sheepish reply. "Pretty much."

"Then I'll have to resign."

"Eh? But you won't take any damage."

"I don't have any cards in hand," empty hands were lifted into the air, "and no Set cards. I know a loss when I see one."

"You'll still have your next turn."

Victor flipped over the top card of his deck, disregarding Yuma's move to protest. "_Vylon Component_ – an Equip Spell. Not very useful with no monsters on the field to equip it to."

"Oh."

Long fingers packed the cards away, and then Victor tucked the deck into his jacket as he rose to his feet.

"I should be going, then," he said. "Thank you very much for the games – they were quite enlightening."

"Thank you very much." Yuma bowed. "Have a good day."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen:<strong>

"Meeting you here," a familiar voice began, "I'm surprised."

Yuma looked up from where he'd been studying the waiting room's colourful linoleum floor. Victor Romani stood before him, garbed in a tailored white suit, the tie under his black dress shirt an impossible shade of bright blue identical to his eyes. Yuma rose from the bench – if Todoroki's pressed shirts and neat hair made him feel self-conscious, Victor's immaculate looks had him running to hide.

"I was so surprised I dropped my D-Gazer when the matchups were sent out," admitted Yuma. "You never mentioned you were in the tournament."

"My brother received the wildcard invitation, actually," replied Victor. "It was a last-minute thing; I only found out when he asked me to attend for him."

"Why couldn't he attend?"

"Family obligations. You borrowed a Duel Disk?"

"Yeah. The tournament staff lent it to me."

"Unsurprising. The Kaiba Corporation Standard Production Model isn't something you'd buy, especially not the Mark III."

"Mhmm," said Yuma noncomittally, hoping his lack of understanding didn't leak through. "Looking forward to the game?"

"I like my chances."

"Are you still running Vylons?"

"I am." A nod. "Are you thinking it puts me at a disadvantage since you've played me before?"

"Ah—well... yeah."

"You won all our games. That's perfectly natural. But," added Victor, "casual play is one thing. I wonder how you'll do in a competitive setting?"

Any reply Yuma had was broken off by the sound of a buzzer, the alert for the two of them to head for their stations. Victor swept out of the room in a swish of long silver hair without another word. By the time Yuma exited after him and entered the corridor, Victor was nowhere to be seen.

Nothing but the rhythmic tapping of soles against linoleum accompanied him to the assigned gate, the winding path growing steadily darker and narrower and the echoes creeping closer and closer. He saw the mouth before he reached it – and it was an unmissable thing, an opening to a brighter, blinding, limitless world.

Mr. Heartland's words cut through everything else in his perception.

"—Luck of the draw has led both our wildcard entrants as the first match in the twenty-third National Duel Championships! The first round: _Yuma Tsukumo_ verses _Victor Romani!_"

If the screams had been loud the day of the Opening Ceremony, they were nothing compared to the sounds erupting from the stands. A chorus of excitement from the mouths of thousands of people, each blindingly bright figure roaring and the chorus cumulating into a synchronised, deafening cry.

His name had been called: it was his cue.

And then the shaking began.

Every step was a battle, as if gravity chose that moment to bear upon him, crush him into the ground. The rays of light were arms and hands, a pair for each person in the stands, reaching for him, choking him; every breath was a struggle as he sought to push through.

He didn't know how he survived through the light to enter the stadium, nor how he made it to the podium whilst wearing a washed-out smile. He took a deep breath, to relax; the stadium was not as bright as it initially seemed – and he was in the shade. There was little sun, little light. Everything would be fine.

—and then the _eyes_.

The eyes looking for Astral, piercing through the world, and finding only him.

Thousands of eyes. Eyes, everywhere. No matter where he turned, there were only eyes. Eyes behind television sets, all around the country. All around the world.

Tens of thousands. Millions.

Billions.

All watching _him_.

Yuma glanced toward Victor, willing for something—anything—that would calm his mind. He found the other man checking over his Duel Disk, eyes disinterested, face smoothed into perfect calm – a face enlarged next to his own on the many screens hovering around them. To see their faces so big, to know that the crowd could see him so clearly—

—That was what Victor had meant. The distinct difference between casual and competitive play.

A hand drifted to his Extra Deck for silent reassurance; he felt the soothing pulsation of the Number from within. He had Hope, he had Cathy's cards, everything would be okay. Yuma turned to his Duel Disk, to check it as well, but as he lifted his arms from his sides he froze. His hand had brushed against something tucked in his pocket, something undeniably metallic and pointed. Of course; of all the times.

The Key.

_"Kattobing, Yuma!"_

_"Kattobing...?"_

_"Challenging_—_" a glint of gold; the Key spiralling through the air against the setting sun, "_—_with a heart that never gives up!"_

He tore his thoughts away. The reminder was unnecessary; the duel was all that mattered. He had to win the duel, win the tournament, and obtain the Numbers. He knew Victor's deck, he knew its weaknesses, he knew how to get around the Equips that were its core.

He knew how to win.

Mr. Heartland – or, rather, the enlarged hologram, as he was too far to see – lifted his heart-tipped staff and pointed across the field.

"Are you ready, Victor Romani?"

"I am," said Victor.

The staff was swung around, this time to Yuma's direction. "And are you ready, Yuma Tsukumo?"

Yuma nodded. "Yeah."

Mr. Heartland swept the staff in a wide arc. "Then get ready, get set – _get duelling!_"

_AR VISION: LINK ESTABLISHED_, resonated within the curved architecture of the stadium, and as the matrix of characters swirled around the two Yuma's breath hitched one last time.

"_Duel!_"

**[ Yuma: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Victor: 4000 ]**

A flashing light above his deck told him it was his turn to play first. Yuma drew his sixth card – _Copy Knight_.

"I summon _Achacha Archer_," he said, and a soldier garbed in red wools and brown wooden armour rose to his side of the field. [**ATK 1200**/*3.] "Now, Achacha Archer's effect activates – when it's summoned, it inflicts 500 points of damage."

Victor did not blink when the flaming arrow soared toward him, nor did he flinch when it pierced through his chest.

**[ Yuma: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Victor: 3500 ]**

Yuma set a card. "Turn end."

"Draw!" said Victor.

As the card was added to his hand, there was a moment of contemplation. Then, a slow, drawn smile stretched across his face. Yuma didn't have long to wonder why.

"It's here," he said, simply.

"What is?"

"My victory."

"Aah!" cried Mr. Heartland, his hologram leaping forward, "Victor Romani has made quite the bold statement, but... will Victor be the victor, and can he follow through?"

"Summon. _Vylon Vanguard_." A mechanical fairy materialised from blustering winds, overlarge shoulder armour threatening to fall. [**ATK 1400**/*4.] "Then, spell activation: _Photon Lead_. Now I can special summon _Vylon Stella _from my hand."

Yuma did not pay much heed to the star-shaped geometrical figure emerging from a swirl of blinding light, golden rings glistening as it settled into place. [**ATK 1400**/~3.] He was more preoccupied with the spell card played.

_Photon Lead._

Photon cards were Kaito's cards; other than the expectations brought back to the surface of his mind, there was the sickening sensation of the Photons themselves. Photons – creations of the Astral World.

It had to be coincidence. He just needed to win.

Victor had been speaking. A card was displayed in his hand; _Mage Power_. An Equip spell.

"—think Vylons solely rely on these. That's what you've been led to believe." A smile. "Don't blame yourself. Tournaments aren't won without misdirection and mindplay, after all."

"What..." breathed Yuma. "Then, you..."

Victor only had two cards on the field; both monsters. He checked Vanguard's effect with his D-Gazer, willing it to work faster. Nothing he didn't know. Then he checked Stella's. He hadn't gotten far when an alert popped up on his display and prevented him from proceeding.

_A new firmware update is available. Download?_

Yuma scowled at the interruption and absently selected 'Confirm'. It took a long, painful thirty-two seconds before his D-Gazer returned to normal function, but by then Victor had already lifted an arm, pointing his fingers toward the sky.

"I tune my level four Vanguard with my level three Stella!"

His two monsters leapt into the air, there was a flash of blinding light, then a dance of four stars within three iridescent rings. Yuma froze, just as his D-Gazer finally pulled up the information he requested.

_Vylon Stella: LIGHT, Level 3 _– _FAIRY/Tuner/Effect _—

_Tuner._

"Radiant souls coalesce for the eighteenth light," called Victor, the sky above him broken by brilliant sunbeams; a glowing curtain. "_Synchro Summon! _Descend from the heavens, _Vylon Sigma!_"

At first there was only an outline, a shadow immersed within blue lightning, but as the faint form neared the more could be seen. Lapis lazuli orbs dotted across glistening white chrome; a celestial war machine, swathed in bright halos across its head and arms.

Then Sigma touched down to the ground and unfurled wings of ruthless steel. [**ATK 1800**/*7.]

"Synchro..." breathed Yuma, staring at the card requiring too much energy to play in Solid Vision form.

"I equip Mage Power to Sigma, and activate Stella's effect," continued V, and the card between his fingers disappeared to his spell/trap zone. "If Stella is sent to the Graveyard, I can pay 500 Life Points to equip it to a monster I control. Mage Power grants Sigma 500 attack and defence for each card in my back row."

With Stella equipped... "A thousand?"

Victor's smile was his only reply. Yuma watched as a beam of light erupted from the shadowy recesses of the Graveyard, and Stella's ghostly image appeared behind Sigma. A stream of golden light trickled from the image of Mage Power to where Sigma stood, and there was a glow as its attack values were calculated again.

**[ Yuma: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Victor: 3000 ]**

**[ Vylon Sigma: ATK **1800 →** 2800 ]**

"Go, Vylon Sigma! Attack Achacha Archer!"

Yuma braced himself for impact, but it didn't come. Sigma hadn't responded; instead, Victor was shuffling through his deck.

"At this timing, Sigma's effect activates," said Victor.

"This timing?" asked Yuma. "Attack declaration?"

A nod. "I equip Sigma with _Twin Swords of Flashing Light _– _Tryce _from my deck!"

Two blades of light appeared to either side. Sigma's glow dimmed [**ATK **2800 →** 2300**], then a stream of more energy from Mage Power restored its glow [**ATK **2300 →** 2800**]. Yuma stared – what just...?

"Continue the attack, Sigma! _Lightning Stream!_"

Yuma was caught unprepared. As the vortex of white light soared across the field, he had no time to ground himself before the blow sent him flying.

**[ Yuma: 2400 ] **- - - - - **[ Victor: 3000 ]**

"Now, Sigma! _Direct attack!_"

"_What?_" said Yuma.

"Twin Swords of Flashing Light – Tryce allows two attacks per turn at a cost of 500 attack points."

"So that's why—Mage Power...!"

"Sigma's effect does not activate," said Victor. "Go, _Lightning Stream!_"

"Is this it?" Mr. Heartland soared into view on his hoverseat, leaning dangerously forward. "Is this the end for Yuma Tsukumo's journey, in only turn two of the opening round duel? Could it be, a _one-turn kill...?_"

_One-turn kill_—

Yuma's eyes flashed to the last card on his field – the facedown. Copy Knight wouldn't help him now.

"I activate _Gagaga Gardna_'s effect!" said Yuma. He slapped the card down with more force than necessary. "If my opponent declares a direct attack, I can special summon him from my hand in attack mode!"

Sigma hesitated at the appearance of a shield, and the Gagaga symbol emblazoned on the surface gleamed in the light. [Gagaga Gardna: **ATK 1500**/*4.]

Victor frowned. "Replay."

"Attack declaration has already passed," said Yuma, with a nod. "It's only a change in attack target."

"The attack continues. Sigma attacks Gagaga Gardna."

"Gagaga Gardna's effect activates – I discard a card to negate destruction in battle."

Yuma placed Overlay Eater into his Graveyard, sparing a moment to remark how useful it would be against Synchros. Behind the shield, Gagaga Gardna pulled goggles down from atop unruly hair. When the blast connected, Gardna somehow managed to remain standing.

Yuma wasn't so lucky. The ground greeted him once more.

**[ Yuma: 1100 ] **- - - - - **[ Victor: 3000 ]**

Then Gardna exploded into a flurry of pixels.

"When Stella is equipped to a monster," said Victor, "if the equipped monster battles, it destroys the opponent's monster after damage calculation. End turn."

"And now, the third turn begins!" cried Mr. Heartland. "Yuma Tsukumo has barely scraped through alive under his opponent's relentless assault! What will happen from now forth...?"

Yuma knew. He _was_ lucky to be alive, but...

"Why didn't you activate Sigma's effect on its second attack?" he asked. "You must have more Equip spells in your deck."

"The end result was already assured," came the answer. "To overdo a play in a tournament where decks remain the same is losing the upper hand in future games. It's better to win surely than for deck knowledge to be revealed. The same goes for losing."

"But there's always a chance—"

"And it's better to take that slim chance and hope victory comes in the final hour, is it? Tell me, Tsukumo. What will you do? Withdraw with pride intact, or continue this meaningless farce?"

"No," said Yuma. "Giving up is only cowardly... and I have to win."

"You have to win, yet you are losing."

He was – in life points only. He wasn't finished; not yet. Not whilst he still had three cards in hand and Copy Knight set on the field. He just needed something he could use with Copy Knight's effect.

"Draw!" His eyes flashed. "I haven't lost yet. I summon _Ganbara Knight!_"

The warrior with two shields rose from the summon portal. [**ATK 0**/*4.] Yuma wasn't done.

"Because I normal summoned a Warrior-type monster, I activate the set Copy Knight, which duplicates the monster I summoned. Come, _Ganbara Knight Copy!_"

Ganbara Knight Copy took a place beside its original, and locked its shields together. [**DEF 0**/*4.]

"Both Ganbara Knights open the Overlay Network – _Xyz Summon!_" Yuma smiled. "Appear, _Symphony Devil Maestroke!_"

There was the cacophony of music notes which accompanied a Music Devil's apperance; Maestroke stepped out from within them, a conductor garbed in black and gold, hand positioned atop the gilded rapier by its side. [**ATK 1800**/Rk. 4.]

"You say your deck doesn't just involve Equips, but you still use them," said Yuma. "That doesn't change, just because you have a Synchro. So, I activate Maestroke's effect, and detach an overlay unit to flip Sigma into facedown defence mode. Now all three cards in your spell and trap zone are destroyed!"

Maestroke pointed its rapier toward Sigma, and the rapier briefly glowed as an overlay unit was absorbed, then a stream of light shot across the field. Sigma screeched as all three Equip cards shattered into light, before being forced into the ground. A horizontal card back – black, from cards contained within black sleeves – marked where it once stood; the lid of a coffin not yet buried in the ground. [Symphony Devil Maestroke: **Olu.** 2 →** 1**; Vylon Sigma: **DEF 1000**.]

"Maestroke attacks the facedown Sigma; _Cadenza Imbrocatta!_"

The lid flipped up; a sequence of thrusts, an array of cuts, then the image of Sigma beneath it faded away. Victor stood, unfazed; defence mode meant no battle damage, after all.

"One card facedown," said Yuma. "I end my turn."

Victor drew so he held three cards in his hand. He scanned their images, calmly, without response.

"I set a monster. One card facedown. Turn end."

"Draw," said Yuma. In the background, Mr. Heartland was talking, but neither duellist paid him any mind. "Maestroke attacks the facedown monster, _Cadenza Imbrocatta!_"

Maestroke attacked once more, but this time the monster was a glowing orange wreath of which a green silk ribbon was wrapped around. [**DEF 800**/*4.] It faded into light, only to be replaced by another. [**DEF 800**/*4.]

"Effect activate," said Victor. "When Nova Summoner is destroyed by battle, I can special summon a LIGHT Fairy-type monster with 1500 or less attack from my deck, and I summon my second Nova Summoner. Then I chain to this timing – reverse card open, _Inferno Reckless Summon_. If you control a monster, we may special summon all copies of the monsters from our hand, deck and Graveyard."

Two more Nova Summoners appeared beside the second, one from the deck and the one previously destroyed only to be revived from the grave. [Nova Summoner #1: **DEF 800**; Nova Summoner #3: **DEF 800**.] On his part, Yuma frowned.

"I don't have Symphony Devil Maestroke in my Graveyard."

"Then you forfeit your ability to summon. Your turn continues."

"...I end my turn."

Victor drew. He added the card to his hand, then flung his arm out to the side.

"I open the Overlay Network with my three level four Nova Summoners," he called. The Network, white from the Nova Summoners' LIGHT, slowly became engulfed by a crawling, bleeding darkness creeping from within. "_Xyz Summon!_ Arise, eradicator; _Vylon Disigma!_"

Disigma, unlike its modern counterpart, rose from an abyss in the ground rather than descending from the sky. White chrome was now black and gold: gold of the sun and black of absent light; crowned with rubies across flawless, glossy surfaces. Dozens of blades protruded from claws sharper than steel could ever be. It did not descend, hovering several metres above, lording over all beings below. [**ATK 2500**/Rk. 4]

Yuma's blood ran cold. Disigma leered down at their side of the field; if Maestroke looked to shrink a little, it may not have completely been his imagination.

"You didn't think Synchros were all, did you?" said V. "Sigma is merely one trump card of many."

Then, Disigma began to glow.

"Disigma's effect activates. By detaching an overlay unit, I can equip an opponent's monster to this card... and you only have one monster on the field."

"Maestroke..."

It was only when he saw the hand in his face did Yuma realise his feet had taken him to the middle of the field. He plucked the card off his Duel Disk and handed it across obligingly, without comment, then the two returned to their places at either end. Victor placed the Xyz monster into his spell/trap zone; the glow around Disigma intensified as an overlay unit was drained, then the thick, dark fog took on Maestroke's form before being absorbed into a beak wide open. [Vylon Disigma: **Olu.** 3 → **2**.]

The large orb behind its head, once red, turned black.

"What?" asked Yuma.

"Since Maestroke was DARK-Attribute, Disigma can now destroy DARK-Attribute monsters it battles at the start of damage calculation," said Victor. "But that is of unimportance. Disigma has 2500 attack. You have 1100 life points. You lose."

"You want to try attacking first?"

"And fall into your facedown? No." Victor picked one of the two cards in his hand. "I summon _Vylon Pentaclo_."

The machine appearing on the field, black and gilded with gold, held an uncanny resemblance to Disigma – were it not for the fact that it looked as if it wanted to be a tetrahedron but something went wrong along the way. [**ATK 500**/*4.]

"Pentaclo's effect activates, equipping it to Vylon Disigma," continued Victor. The only indication of change lay in Pentaclo's disappearance, and the tetrahedral base of Disigma growing larger; otherwise, attack and defence values remained the same. "Battle! Disigma attacks directly: _Unity Blast!_"

Yuma was already moving. "I activate the trap, Attack Invulnerability! I choose to take no damage this Battle Phase."

Disigma, which had opened its beak and released a black, electric beam, flexed claws in disapproval as the attack was deflected by a barrier of smoky wind.

"Of course," said Victor. "Considering your other option was to have Disigma immune to battle destruction and card effects."

"Finish your turn."

"With one card in your hand and no cards on the field, you still believe you have a chance?"

"There's _always_ a chance. That's what—" —_kattobing means._

Victor raised an eyebrow in the silence that followed. "You have no cards that can reverse the situation in one turn."

...That was true. There was only one turn left. He could draw something that would destroy Disigma, but 1100 life points were pushing dangerous territory as it was; Victor would simply summon something with enough attack to finish him. Yuma probably wasn't going to summon something with enough attack to defeat Disigma in battle, unless it was an Xyz Summon – and then again, he still didn't know if Pentaclo had another effect.

He locked his D-Gazer onto Pentaclo, and tried to check its card text.

_ERROR. Card unavailable._

What?

"Pentaclo," he said. "Show me the card."

Victor did so, pressing buttons to display the image before Yuma's person. "Desperate, are you?"

Yuma didn't reply; he was too busy reading. _Vylon Pentaclo: LIGHT, Level 4 _– _Machine/Union/Effect _—

"That's why you equipped Pentaclo," said Yuma, in slow realisation. "Pentaclo is a Union Monster. If my set card could destroy Disigma, only Pentaclo would be destroyed."

"Of course. Unless you have two destruction cards, there's no chance of victory." Victor smiled. "You lose."

Yuma looked at his hand. _Overlay Owl. WIND, Level 4 _– _Winged Beast/Effect..._

His eyes widened.

"No," he found himself saying. "There is still one card that can turn this around."

A shrug. "Very well. If you insist. Lets see if you can draw what you're looking for. Turn end."

Yuma took a deep breath. He forced himself to ignore the presence before him: Victor's powerful, rearing presence; the noise of the crowd – fussing, talking, eating, cheering – and the feeling of countless eyes trained on his person.

One card. Or, more precisely, one certain type of card. No pressure.

Right?

"This is Yuma Tsukumo's last chance to come out on top!" came Mr. Heartland's voice, far louder than he remembered it being. "Can he do it? Can he succeed? Can he do what Victor Romani claims is _impossible_ to do, and find a single card out of thirty-four?"

It was testament to his unstable _ki_ that he finally noticed Mr. Heartland again. As if trying to help, or perhaps goaded by signals he couldn't see, the crowd began to clap and chant his name. To cheer him on. It did nothing but remind him of the _eyes_, of Kaito somewhere out there, expecting him to fulfil his word and win the tournament.

So he could gather the Numbers; so they could return to their world.

He touched his Extra Deck again. The pulsation, previously so reassuring, had less effect than before. He knew, though, it wasn't that it had faded; the level of expectation was nothing but exponentially greater.

Yuma closed his eyes and took another deep breath; this time, he placed his hand in his pocket. The Key and its grooves dug into his skin. He clenched it tighter. He needed to win—needed to draw the card—

_"You still have a chance.  
>"For your next draw, draw a card which enables you to special summon a monster...<br>"You have to draw that card no matter what."_

"I'm going to bring it," he murmured, to himself, too soft to be picked up by the microphone and for his ears only, "_kattobing..._ kattobing."

With a heart that never gives up.

_Sorry, dad_, he thought. _I did give up. I keep giving up. But, just this once...!_

Yuma drew a card.

_Shadow Lizard. _Bingo. There was nothing else he could do; this was it.

"I summon _Overlay Owl_," he said. "Then, because I normal summoned a level 4 monster, I can special summon _Shadow Lizard_ from my hand."

A snowy owl garbed in a yellow waistcoat stepped onto Yuma's field, red cape fluttering in intangible wind. [**ATK 800**/*4.] The shadow beneath its feet shifted, before growing two pairs of feet and a longer tail, and twin eyes appeared when the shadowy lizard crawled to the side to take up its own monster card zone. [**DEF 500**/*4.]

"I pay 600 life points to activate Overlay Owl's effect."

Yuma winced as his Life fell. Overlay Owl lifted its staff, pointing in Disigma's direction, and one of the revolving overlay units dissolved. [Vylon Disigma: **Olu.** 2 → **1**.]

**[ Yuma: 500 ] **- - - - - **[ Victor: 3000 ]**

"Now Overlay Owl and Shadow Lizard open the overlay network! _Xyz Summon!_" he called. One hand reached for the Extra Deck by his side. "Rise, No. 39: _King of Hopes _– _Hope!_"

Some sounds of surprise erupted upon seeing the Network, a thick, rich, sickening shade of deep violet as it always was when Numbers were summoned. A white ark ascended from deep within, then the structure began to unfold. First the wings, golden remex-like rays shooting from white coverts; then powerful arms. The unlocking of golden pauldrons followed, as they slid into place, then plates shifted to form tassets to either side. In a final spiral, a flash of light, the crusader leapt into the sky.

Then the pulsation of the Numbers. _39._

**[ No. 39: King of Hopes **– **Hope: ATK 2500/Rk. 4 ]**

The crowd began to murmur. Mr. Heartland, for his part, seemed to be lost for words.

Victor's eyes narrowed; he glared at the card balefully. "_Numbers._"

"I activate Overlay Eater's effect from my Graveyard," said Yuma, "detaching Vylon Disigma's last overlay unit and attaching it to Hope!"

The faint image of a pink-splotched lizard appeared in the middle of the field. Its bulbous eyes scanned the field, then a long, pink tongue flicked out, catching the last ball of light revolving around Disigma, and then flicked it toward Hope before disappearing. [Vylon Disigma: **Olu.** 1 → **0**; No. 39: King of Hopes – Hope: **Olu.** 2 → **3**.]

Yuma threw an arm toward Victor's field. "Battle Phase!" he said. "King of Hopes – Hope attacks Disigma!"

"Impossible!" said Mr. Heartland. "Both Vylon Disigma and King of Hopes – Hope have the same attack points!"

It was not Yuma, but Victor who replied.

" 'Numbers cards can only be destroyed in battle by another Numbers monster.' "

Yuma smiled. "And I've turned this around. Go, King of Hopes – Hope! _Hope Sword Slash!_"

The crusader reached for one of twin swords hanging from its its waist, and flung it in the air. It was caught before it flew behind, and then Hope soared on radiant wings. Disigma countered, charging a ball of electricity at an open beak. An explosion of smoke, an instant later.

When the smoke dissipated the two monsters were unharmed, protected by barriers of light. Then the barrier around Disigma disappeared, it shrank as its base grew smaller, and Victor placed Vylon Pentaclo into his Graveyard.

"Now _you're_ the one in trouble," said Yuma. "If you used Sigma's effect, you would have won – but you left it too late."

At first, Victor remained silent. Then Yuma looked closer; the other man's eyes were shadowed, fists were clenched, and wide, dilated eyes distorted the green Gazer Mark scored across his cheek.

"This has gone on... _long_ enough," came the voice, a hiss, inhuman. "I should have dealt with you – _long_ – ago."

Yuma blinked. "What...?"

"Finish your turn!"

"...I end."

"Draw!"

The card was removed with force that could tear; would have torn, were there no sleeves for protection. Victor scanned the cards in his hand.

"It's funny," he said, unexpectedly.

"What is?"

"That Numbers is the last thing you have. Your field is empty. Your hand is empty. Hope is the last thing standing." He smiled. "All I have to do is destroy it."

He turned around the last two cards in his hand, and slid them apart so both could be seen. "I discard Vylon Soldier to activate Cards from the Sky. In return for being unable to perform my Battle Phase or special summon, I can draw two cards."

"And Victor Romani refills his hand!" said Mr. Heartland, as Victor drew. "Two cards for two... will the heavens smile upon him for victory?"

Victor snorted – then he laughed. He laughed; a sinking sensation grew in Yuma's heart.

Yuma scowled. "_What?_"

"Merely appreciating the irony."

Yuma was given his answer; Victor didn't even place his cards in his hand, only flipped them over.

He recognised neither. The first card was a half-covered Effect Monster. 'Soul', the beginning of its name, the left edge of the artwork a sun shining over a bright cerulean sea. The second one was a spell, effect too far to read. _Hope Buster_.

"Can you see?" asked Victor, rhetorically. "Engrave this into your mind, _Hunter_. Without Hope, you are _nothing_."

Yuma couldn't respond in time. Hunter? How did he...

"Spell activation: _Hope Buster!_ The monster with the lowest attack on your field is destroyed." A wide, sadistic smirk. "And you only have _one_ monster."

A rocket launcher formed above Disigma's form. Yuma stumbled forward when it fired as if he could stop it himself, to no avail. Hope screamed, shattered.

The missile continued flying.

"The attack points of the destroyed monster are inflicted to its controller."

It punched through him; Yuma doubled over, and teetered forward. His collapse on the floor was not entirely from the effect damage dealt from that blow.

**[ Yuma: 0 ] **- - - - - **[ Victor: 3000 ]**

**= WIN: VICTOR =**

A shadow fell over him, then the shape of shoes in his vision.

"Everything you know has been calculated," the voice said. The microphones were disabled, yet it still cut into his soul. "You never had a chance of winning. _Game over_."

A card was tossed to his feet; _Symphony Devil Maestroke_; then Victor Romani walked away.

* * *

><p>A-Plaza, located within the eye of Heartland City's A District, was a veritable area known for its fifty-metre array of projectors. That array held the honour of being the largest in the city's entirety. This made it unsurprising that the area was crowded full of people, spectators who couldn't afford ringside seats in Heartland's stadium but desiring as much of the experience they could still receive. There were picnic blankets, caravans, as well as tents and cars, and D-Gazers snapped onto each person in the vicinity.<p>

Blue, angular Gazer Mark synthesised steadily, and white knee-length coattails churning from the crisp air rushing past his person, Kaito watched the proceedings from the roof of a surrounding building. There were others with much the same idea as he, other roofs rented out weeks ago, now filled with collapsible chairs and raucous chatter over results revealed not moments ago.

Kaito's location hadn't been obtained through methods as legal.

"Orbital-7," he called.

On his back, in glider mode as it had been for the past few days, the ivory robot beeped. "Yes, Master Kaito?"

"The number," he said. "Call them."

"U—Understood!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ki<strong>_– **a complicated concept roughly described as 'spiritual state'. Maybe recognisable as **_**chi**_**. (Some of the other terminology - trivia - can be found on my fanfiction tumblr.)**

**Well, I guess there's not much point calling this a tournament arc, then. (But I do it because it's easy, fufu~)**

**Please review :D**


	14. Chapter 14

**Not very happy with this chapter, personally :/ (Though this breaks the 50k mark, yay!)**

**Thank you to everyone who's reviewed! :D**

* * *

><p><em>Seven hours ago.<em>

"Tokunosuke."

Tokunosuke did not look up. At Ryoga's words, he only craned his right ear scant centimetres closer. People shuffled around them, carrying out their roles, eager to leave the shadowed alleyways and neon lights within Neo Domino's E8 hub and proceed with what lives they still owned.

Money transfers were commonplace. All services were available. No questions were asked.

"What is it?"

"The Numbers."

"Oh. What of them?"

"I have a lead."

"Yes. You mentioned so," and here Tokunosuke finally glanced up, the _nurikabe_ puzzle under his fingertips ignored. "It's that Yuma Tsukumo, no?"

Ryoga didn't bother acknowledging the answer. "Can we track him?"

"Sure. I'll have a word with Invicil once we finish here—just give me his number."

"And there's no flip side?"

"There is _always_ a flip side." Tokunosuke smiled; his teeth glinted in the light hiding eyes behind lenses from view. "But, just this once, boss."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen:<strong>

"You must be the Numbers Hunter."

The man, cast in unpleasant green from head-to-toe, beamed as Kaito approached the south gates. Nobody else was present, and a long, bleak expanse of road ensured any figures would be immediately detected. Purple eyes unreadable, the man called Mr. Heartland extended both hands toward him.

Kaito ignored them. He didn't feel at ease, not with the dozens of security cameras bearing down and watching for any sign of trouble. "I am."

"_Excellent! _I must thank you for returning our message—"

"Where is Haruto?"

"Fine. If you will come this way—"

"I refuse. You have taken our Prince without sanction. As his Heavenly Guard, it is my duty to protect him at all costs." Kaito lifted his head; he allowed Photon Mode to resonate brighter. "Refusal to comply leaves me well within judgement to have you drained."

"It is in your best interests to hear us out."

"I fail to see—"

"You are a denizen of the Astral World." Mr. Heartland adjusted his glasses. "We are able to help you return."

Kaito's eyes narrowed. "Impossible. Cross-universal wormholes have been tried, with failure."

"That was the source of the dimensional overspill one and a half weeks ago?"

Kaito glared, and remained silent. Mr. Heartland smiled.

"Yes," he said. "We have been searching for you—searching for years. Very neat little trick, to stop time in order to avoid our sensors' range. But you messed up."

Kaito did not answer. He knew exactly whose fault the mistake belonged to.

"Believe me," said Mr. Heartland. "We share common goals. We, too, wish to return to our own world. There are others working with us trying to achieve the same."

"...And you are certain you will be able to do so."

"We are. We've done it before – now we wish to return."

"You will return us to our world?"

The man lifted a fist to his heart, and descended to one knee. Amidst vivid images of his own race doing the same, Kaito remembered the inadvertent mimicry by a young boy on Earth. There was nothing inadvertent about Mr. Heartland's action, it was no coincidence, the mark of direct intent clear within his eyes. The pledge, executed to perfection, was there.

A frown slipped over Kaito's features. None in this world should have known how.

"We will," said Mr. Heartland. "Once the Sphere gains full-function, you will return."

"I accept your word," said Kaito. "Very well. We will help you."

Mr. Heartland bowed his head in acknowledgement. Then he rose to his feet and waved an arm. Behind him, the doors opened to reveal a long, dark corridor leading into the tower.

"Thank you for your cooperation."

Mr. Heartland entered; Kaito, with the briefest moment of hesitation, followed behind. The doors slid closed once the two walked through, and then there was nothing but the sound of one pair of footsteps echoing within the narrow walls.

If Mr. Heartland noticed the absence of sound to Kaito's stride, he did not show it. Kaito, for his part, did not feel the need to have his heard. His steps were perfect, precisely timed, cadence faultless. As he always had to be.

A screen opened before Mr. Heartland; in it, a young man with lean features and red hair. A blonde fringe fell over narrowed eyes, eyes that flickered briefly to glance at Kaito before looking back again. Then the young man bowed stiffly, poorly, like a puppet attempting to resist command.

"There has been a dispute in the west sector, sir," said the young man. "Your presence is required."

"I have no time for that, IV," replied Mr. Heartland. The young man called IV twitched when his name was called; otherwise, the bow was not broken, the strings were undisturbed. "Have Gauche take care of the matter."

"Understood. Do you desire anything else, sir?"

"Prepare lunch for me at one. You may sleep until two. Then I would like you to complete the trade policy this afternoon for validation at six."

IV rose. "As you wish, my lord."

The screen vanished, along with the hatred in IV's eyes. Kaito took that opportunity to speak.

"Let me visit Haruto."

"Of course," came the reply. "That is where we are going now."

"How is he?"

"Resting well, in their own specialised formulas."

"...So you _have_ been to our world."

"I have."

"How did you leave?"

"Dimensional fluctuation."

The conversation stopped there. The two continued in silence, passing several doors, amidst twisting corridors and paths only Mr. Heartland knew. Eventually they entered a room, completely white, empty were it not for twin shallow fibreglass baths. Each bath was filled with a green liquid, and within them lay two figures far too recognisable.

Kaito couldn't have run faster to the centre of the room.

"Haruto!" He gripped the edge tighter; he almost lost a few centimetres on his fingers from lack of attention as he did so. "_Haruto!_"

Haruto shifted within the formula, wincing. He only managed a whisper through thin lips; "Bro... ther?"

"Haruto..." Kaito placed a hand over his brother's heart. He did not notice when Photon Mode began to dissolve, his hand half-submerged within the liquid. He was too busy searching for Haruto's core.

It was there, it was faint, but it still pulsed radiantly from within.

He returned to his feet. Mr. Heartland still stood at the doorway, waiting with no hint of impatience.

"Are you done?" said Mr. Heartland.

"To return to our world," said Kaito. "What will I have to do?"

"There's no need to jump to conclusions. We never asked for you to—"

"Do not skirt around. Helping you is part of our agreement. What do you want?"

Mr. Heartland pursed his lips. "You can help us by finding the Numbers."

"_I_ do not find Numbers. _Haruto_ finds Numbers." Eyes flashed. "And Haruto is _unavailable_."

"Haruto?"

"Numbers holders aren't affected by time-stops. He is able to encompass all three dimensions simultaneously."

"So he can see the whole world and tell who's aware?" Kaito nodded. Mr. Heartland smiled. "Interesting. That would also explain your failure to cross universes, as you only have cross-dimensional powers. We wondered how the Numbers Hunter operated. How many do you have?"

"...Orbital-7."

"Four," said Orbital-7, in reply.

Mr. Heartland frowned. "Only four?"

"The rest are in storage."

"Storage...?"

"Within the Keeper. Converted to energy."

"...Ah." There was a tone of disappointment, source difficult to pinpoint, but Mr. Heartland continued. "What about that Yuma Tsukumo?"

Kaito stiffened.

"As I suspected," said Mr. Heartland. "You are affiliated with him."

"...Yes. You wish for me to retrieve No. 39?"

Mr. Heartland nodded. "Correct. Collecting the Numbers is the first step, so that we may access their energy. Once you obtain No. 39, I will have a list of known Numbers Holders prepared so those can be retrieved also."

"You know of Numbers Holders?"

"We have done our own research. We merely lack the ability to remove Numbers from a person as... cleanly."

Silence followed; Kaito did not reply, there was nothing to say. Mr. Heartland did not press him further. The agreement between the two of them was drawn thin but strong, a single thread of spider's silk tying one to another.

Finally, Kaito spoke. "When will this sphere be complete?"

"It should be finished. Within a year, at most. Our last attempt did not have enough power so we could not test the current configuration."

"Do you have catchment systems available?"

"Catchment...?"

"Your Earth does not possess the conditions nor technology required to completely extract the energy from condensed Numbers."

"This is the first time I've heard of such a thing," said Mr. Heartland. He tapped the centrepiece of his glasses twice. "Not completely extract the energy...?"

"The cards emit white light moments before disintegration. That is the only way to know if they are erased."

"And a catchment system will help us obtain all the energy?"

"You will be able to draw upon the energy used during duels, yes."

"Then we'll see to setting up a system immediately. Thank you for your assistance, Numbers Hunter."

"Tenjo," corrected Kaito. "Kaito Tenjo. The Castle of the Heavenly Guard."

* * *

><p>Their old base in Heartland City was a cheap apartment complex, once trashed by unruly tenants, now adopted as an alternative to the Game Shop where the main body stayed. Ryoga had chosen it as his own, after Rikuo and Kaio showed clear preference to their own abode. It was in much the same condition as it had been left: several drop sheets were still spread across both rooms beneath buckets of tools and plaster; a third room had broken goods, with parts that could be scavenged but worthless as they were.<p>

They pushed several of the sheets aside and gathered chairs and chair substitutes for the four of them in the middle of the main room.

"Connection to the network is stable," said Invicil. "Rikuo and Kaio can't be found in Heartland. NEBULA reports they're still in Kanto, on their return."

"Still?" asked Ryoga. "Have they finished securing new routes for their cigs?"

"Downloading recent activity fails. No connection."

Ginji rose to his feet, fidgeting with his elbows. "Geez, how much longer?"

Ryoga looked to Tokunosuke. Tokunosuke shrugged. "Undermining a system can only happen so quickly."

"Yeah," said Ginji, "but it's been _years_ already!"

"Are you thinking of leaving?" said Ryoga.

"I—_no!_ No, I say I'm with you, I'm with you, it's just..." He shook his head. "I can't do anything. You talk about systems, I can't understand..."

"You _are_ needed here."

"Yeah. I know. I think... I'll go out. Any of you need anything?"

"Koemi needs to charge," said Invicil.

Ginji blinked. "Koemi?"

"My computer."

"You – _named_ – your computer? Koemi, _little smile_," Ginji snorted. "That's such a sissy name. At least call it Enrise or something—"

Ginji faltered when he noticed the deathly glare. Invicil snarled, wrapped his fingers tighter around the lid of his laptop, eyes shadowed by the hair falling into his face.

"Don't _ever_—"

"So brave of you to insult my associates at your own risk, Yamada," said Tokunosuke. One hand was holding Invicil back. "As you know the flip side can be much worse than your entertainment."

"R—Right," said Ginji. "A guy who takes apart viruses and puts together his own."

"Good to see you know. You can make up for it by getting lunch and finding a place Koemi can charge."

"Sure," said Ginji, quickly, with the air of a person not paying attention to what they were agreeing to. "I'll be right back."

Then he left. Tokunosuke neared Invicil then, the two exchanged soft words, before Invicil rose to his feet and handed his laptop to Tokunosuke.

"Monitor progress," he said. "I'm going out."

Tokunosuke nodded. Invicil left as well. The sound of the front door closing accompanied the knowledge that the two of them were the only ones to remain.

"Invicil," said Ryoga. "You're sure of his loyalty?"

"He's loyal so long as I'm loyal," replied Tokunosuke. "And the flip side is that though you know what I'm after, you don't know about him."

Ryoga intended to stay silent. There wasn't anything that could be said in reply. But that was when he noticed a large number of lines being printed on the laptop's screen; bright text upon black filling every space conceivable, still scrolling strong and without end.

They had not been there a second ago.

"What—"

The screen was spun away as Tokunosuke made to look. "Looks like the little lionfish is receiving a call."

"Tsukumo?" said Ryoga. "Who is it?"

"No clue."

"Don't we have access to location data?"

"The flip side," said Tokunosuke, "that is, the network doesn't know. There _is_ no location data. However, I can try to pinpoint it through Tsukumo's D-Gazer itself."

"Do it." Ryoga reached for his D-Gazer. "And patch me through. I want to hear what's going on."

"Okay, boss."

"_—that really you?_" came Tsukumo's voice immediately, as soon as Ryoga had the D-Gazer snapped on.

The voice that replied had Ryoga grit teeth and clench fists so fiercely that he felt only sudden, shooting pain.

"_Where are you?_" asked the smooth voice of Kaito Tenjo. There was no discernible accent in the Japanese, purely textbook standard, possessing only the faint lilt of those who considered themselves superior.

"_Heartland... somewhere in Heartland. Kaito – where did you—_"

"_How far are you from the south gate?_"

"_Where did you get Photon Lead? Did you give it to anyone—_"

"_I will not ask again. How far are you from the south gate?_"

"_The... south gate?_"

"_Heartland Tower._"

"_Not that far... I think. Why?_"

"_Meet me in two hours._"

"_Kaito—_"

The line cut dead. Ryoga turned to Tokunosuke, slowly. Tokunosuke, for his part, with an earpiece hooked across one ear at some point during the conversation, raised an eyebrow.

"You want to go to Heartland," said Tokunosuke, before Ryoga could even speak.

Ryoga nodded. "Yes."

"Are you worried?"

"No."

"Then if you're not worried, if that's true, why would you not want to stay?"

"That's not the question," said Ryoga. "Can you get me into Heartland?"

"I can. I'm still owed a favour. But not for free—it'll cost you."

"How much?"

Tokunosuke told him. Ryoga barely winced.

"Fine," said Ryoga. "I still have enough."

"From your father?"

A nod. "There's little point trying to earn a degree with this kind of opportunity."

"Opportunity?" asked Tokunosuke.

"To collect the Numbers," said Ryoga. "And to destroy the Laevatein."

* * *

><p>It was at the corner before the turn into the road which led to the south gate that Yuma was jolted out of his thoughts and brought to a stop.<p>

"Tsukumo."

He'd frozen, and slowly spun around. "...Ryoga?"

Ryoga, for it couldn't have been anyone but him, did not respond. Both hands were in pockets, there was a spiked D-Gazer over one eye and a D-Pad strapped to an arm. The backpack was gone.

"You're going to see Tenjo," said Ryoga.

"What—" said Yuma; "_How did you—_"

"Let me come with you."

"I know—" _what I'm doing._ "You—you don't have to."

"It does not relate to you," came the reply. "Tenjo and I have unfinished business."

"...Alright."

Ryoga did not initiate conversation again. He merely followed behind Yuma, quiet; once they turned the corner and entered the large, main road did Yuma's skin prickle at being exposed and alone.

The distinctive figure of Kaito Tenjo was waiting at the other end, alone. It was that figure that was Yuma's goal.

Once they were within hearing distance a century later, Ryoga was the first to speak of the three.

"_Tenjo,_" he growled.

Kaito's eyes flashed to Ryoga at his words, then settled to stare into Yuma's soul. "You continue bringing him, Tsukumo?" he asked.

"No!" said Yuma. "He – I came across him. Listen, about the tournament—"

"I do not care for your motives," said Kaito. Any hope he was speaking to Yuma was dashed; he and Ryoga were staring one another down. "But understand you are a threat that must be dealt with."

"Are you going to duel him?" said Ryoga.

"Do not interfere with what does not concern you."

"I asked you a question."

"The answer _does not_ concern you."

"That doesn't matter," said Ryoga. "I want to make you a deal."

"...deal?"

"Duel me."

Yuma choked. "What—"

"I have no reason to duel you," said Kaito.

"Why not?" asked Ryoga. "Scared, you piece of shit?"

Yuma took half a step back when Photon Mode brightened and Kaito's aura flared. Barely did his mind register the fact that Kaito's coat was much shorter than it once was. Neither of the other two moved.

"You are _lucky_ to still be alive," said Kaito. The words were long-drawn, spoken carefully, as if he'd forgotten how to form speech. "I should just finish you now, _Kamishiro._"

"I take it you accept," said Ryoga.

Fingers flexed within fingerless gloves, and Kaito's eyes narrowed. "And?"

"And," said Ryoga, "if I win, you hand over the Numbers."

"Fine. I'll wipe you off the face of the Earth."

Ryoga smirked. "Of course."

He'd lifted his left arm to engage his D-Pad when Kaito spoke again. "But we do not duel here."

"What?"

"Tsukumo," said Kaito, suddenly. Yuma jumped. "Follow me."

Yuma blinked. "Where—"

There was no answer. Kaito had already turned around to enter the building. With only the briefest amount of hesitation, Ryoga followed. Yuma had no choice but to enter behind. He stepped into the dim, narrow corridor, only for the gates to roll closed with a resounding shudder of steel and lock the three of them within the grounds.

He suppressed the breath that hitched in his throat. There would be no turning back.

Yuma didn't know how long they were walking for, nor how many corners they turned or paths they took, but he did know that Kaito was going underground with a destination in mind. That destination was a large domed room some dozen steps later. No part of the room wasn't lit; giant floodlights around the central circular podium cast a blinding glare against equipment and cable.

Before the podium, there was a large canopy made from a network of spiderwebbed cords. Beneath the canopy sat Orbital-7 beside two men – one that Yuma knew well.

"Mr. Heartland—?" he asked.

Mr. Heartland, for it could not have been anyone but the mayor of both Heartland and Heartland City, adjusted his glasses. Their lenses caught the light.

"We meet again, Yuma Tsukumo," he said. Then he bowed to Kaito. "This should work as specified."

"Good," said Kaito. "Has the Keeper been connected to the Sphere?"

"He is," said the other man. Whenever he spoke, wrinkles would split and form more in a display fascinating to watch. "As you suspected, he has not been completely drained. There is still energy to be used."

Kaito nodded. Wordlessly, he walked beneath the canopy. Orbital-7 and the two men moved aside.

"Tsukumo," said Kaito, without turning around.

"Y-Yes?"

Kaito gestured to the space beneath the canopy, closest to the podium. "Stand there."

Yuma did as he was told. As he neared the podium, he noticed a small ball of energy suspended within the two points to either side, difficult to discern amidst the lights. "Now wha—"

"Orbital-7," said Kaito. He held his left arm outstretched; Orbital-7 saluted, then sent the Duel Disk spinning into position.

"This is where you wanted to duel?" asked Ryoga.

"Wait!" said Yuma. "Why do you want to—"

"I will take your Numbers," said Kaito.

Ryoga frowned. "What about our duel?"

"Irrelevant."

Yuma was the only person to see Ryoga's eyes narrow. Then Ryoga stepped forward, walking past Kaito into the free space to Yuma's side. A series of clicks had his D-Pad engaged and the duel field snapped into place.

"There is no time," said Ryoga. "We will duel _now_."

"Wait," blurted Yuma. "Is this two on one?"

"No." Ryoga held up a small black box between his fingers. "You also hold Numbers in your possession."

He pressed the button, then the black box spoke.

_OVERRIDING DUEL DISKS IN RANGE. MODE INITIALISING._ There was the flash of light from D-Gazers, then both Kaito and Yuma's Duel Disks slid into activation. The AR field began to unfurl as Kaito's Gazer Mark was etched across one eye. _BATTLE ROYALE ENGAGED._

Ryoga drew his opening hand, and pointed the cards facedown toward the centre of the room. "_Duel!_"

* * *

><p><strong>Please review? :)<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**Before this season ends I want to get this arc finished. Which, by the way, means next chapter. Yesssss. (Let's see how I go.)**

**This is one of the more interesting duels I've scripted/written, and also the greatest logistical nightmare. Hopefully it's easy to follow despite the hoops involved, and is enjoyable :) I think the best duels are those with technicalities in them.**

**Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing~!**

* * *

><p>Ginji sat on the ground outside the front door. A large plastic bag lay beside him, filled with convenience store goods. He drank idly at the bottle of juice in his hands, though his brow was furrowed and he continuously arched his head as if looking for something.<p>

It was when Tokunosuke appeared that Ginji jumped to his feet, plastic bag forgotten.

"Where the _hell_ have you been," said Ginji. "I thought you and the boss weren't going to leave!"

"You didn't bring a key?" asked Tokunosuke.

"Don't even _have_ a key."

Tokunosuke shrugged. "Invicil called. He's going to be away for a little more, or not. You did find that charging station?"

"Yeah," said Ginji. Then he shook his head. "But that's not the point—what happened to Shark?"

"Change of plans."

"_What?_"

"He's gone to finish some business. Until he gets back, the plan continues." Tokunosuke grinned. "Entering the Swallow's Nest—are you ready?"

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen:<strong>

**[ Shark: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Yuma: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Hunter: 4000 ]**

Yuma tried not to dwell upon the names each of their disks were registered under. He failed; he stared at Ryoga, just as the other man drew for his turn.

"You'll regret accepting this duel," said Ryoga. He was speaking only to Kaito. "I'll _crush_ you."

Kaito drew his opening hand. "Unlikely."

"Summon, _Needle Sunfish!_" said Ryoga. A blue headfish rose from the depths, watching with yellow beady eyes. [**ATK 1500**/*3.] "Because I summoned a Fish monster successfully, I can special summon _Shark Sucker_ from my hand."

Beside the blue headfish, a fanged remora emerged. [**DEF 1000**/*3.] Both monsters disappeared as soon as they were called.

"The overlay network is opened with these two monsters; Xyz Summon!" called Ryoga. "Ascend, _Underwater Warship _– _Aero Shark!_"

Muscles rippled beneath leathery skin, twin rulers of the sea chained by steel and stripped of mind, welded together by large, vast wings. Eyes were covered by harsh metal, and both jaws were supplemented by synthesised fangs. It landed above the white floor with a shrill, painful cry. [**ATK 1900**/Rk. 3.]

"Aero Shark's effect activates," said Ryoga. "I detach Shark Sucker to inflict 400 points of damage for each card in my hand. Tenjo, I have four cards."

"1600 damage in the first turn...?" said Yuma.

Kaito did not move, even when Aero Shark ripped through the canopy. It dove, dropping missiles from both wings, yet Kaito only watched when they rained around him and his life points went down.

**[ Shark: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Yuma: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Hunter: 2400 ]  
>[ Underwater Warship <strong>– **Aero Shark: Olu. **2 → **1 ]**

Moments later the canopy reformed, a reminder that they were seeing only AR.

"One card facedown," said Ryoga. "End turn."

Yuma's Duel Disk beeped, but Yuma did not draw.

"Kaito," he said. "You wanted the Numbers, right?"

Kaito did not nod, nor did he speak, but his eyes glanced over to indicate the affirmative.

Yuma continued. "We don't have to duel for it then! You could have just asked—they're yours, after all."

"Wrong," said Kaito. "It is necessary."

"But No. 17—"

"Numbers cannot be freely exchanged once they have determined their owner. No. 17 was the creation of another," said Kaito. "You offered a pledge, Tsukumo. It was not a pledge you followed through. Your only role now is to lose the duel."

That was true. Yuma remembered too clearly the day Kaito appeared, the day he first found out about Haruto and Astral's position as Prince. It had been a promise he'd made five years ago.

Sudden footsteps threw him out of his thoughts. Ryoga had begun walking toward Kaito; now he just froze, remembering he wasn't supposed to move within the restraints of the duel.

"Shut the fuck up," said Ryoga.

Kaito's eyes trailed away from Yuma toward Ryoga once more. "This does not concern you."

"I don't care," came the reply. Ryoga glared – though this time, his anger was directed at Yuma alone. "Are you going to duel, or waste time talking?"

A second later, Ryoga's attention returned to Kaito again. Yuma blinked when he felt paper beneath his fingers, having drawn his sixth card without noticing.

"I—" Yuma glanced down to his hand; "—summon, _Gagaga Magician_."

The magician in copper and blue strode out as the summon portal formed, hands in pockets, long links of chain suspended in the air. [**ATK 1500**/*4.]

He reached for the third card in his hand. _Gagagashield._

"I set a card," he said. "I end my turn."

Wordlessly, Kaito drew.

"Spell activation: _Photon Sanctuary_," he said. "Special summon two _Photon Tokens_."

The tokens were small balls of white light, leaving the image of the card and floating into Kaito's monster zone. Tiny blue sparks crackled on occasion; otherwise, they remained fairly docile. [**DEF 0**/*4.]

Yuma stiffened as their attack values appeared on his D-Gazer. _ATK 2000_. Meanwhile, Ryoga scowled and shifted in place, though he said nothing.

"I tribute both Photon Tokens," said Kaito. "Advance summon: _Photon Wyvern!_"

A radiant glow came from both tokens. The light grew; what were once two orbs was now nothing but a single body of white haze. Slowly, it dissipated to become a skeletal dragon with luminescence for flesh and a core of glimmering amethyst. [**ATK 2500**/*7.]

Then it opened its mouth and unleashed a beam of energy.

"When Photon Wyvern is summoned, it destroys all set cards on the opponent's field," said Kaito.

"I chain." Yuma waved a hand before him. "I activate Gagagashield, equipping it to Gagaga Magician."

When the red-rimmed shield materialised before Gagaga Magician, deflecting the beam to Ryoga's field, the card set there shattered into a flurry of pixels.

"Tch," said Ryoga. _Poseidon Wave_ was placed into his graveyard.

"Battle Phase," said Kaito. "Photon Wyvern attacks Underwater Warship – Aero Shark; _Divine Illumination!_"

Photon Wyvern threw out its arms, flared out its wings. The wispy membranes shone brighter, blindingly brightly. Aero Shark screeched as it too broke apart, and Ryoga stumbled back with an arm over his eyes.

**[ Shark: 3400 ] **- - - - - **[ Yuma: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Hunter: 2400 ]**

Then Photon Wyvern fell forward as a flurry of golden darts pierced through its wings; Ryoga had emptied his field. [**ATK** 2500 → **2000**.]

"Needle Sunfish was sent to the graveyard," said Ryoga. "An opponent's monster loses 500 attack."

"Turn end," said Kaito.

Ryoga drew. He paused, his eyes flashed across the field—

—and then he smiled.

"No set cards?" he asked Kaito, though the question was rhetorical. "You'll regret that decision. I activate _Surfacing_, letting me summon Needle Sunfish to my field."

The blue headfish appeared again, this time rising upon the crest of a tidal wave. [**DEF 100**/*3.]

"Because I activated a Normal Spell," he continued, "I can summon _Big Jaws_ from my hand."

Yuma did not pay it much mind when he saw the fin atop a second wave, but it was the metallic dentures of the monster that sparked his memory – almost as if one of the two fish in Aero Shark's form managed to escape the graveyard alongside Needle Sunfish as well. [**ATK 1800**/*3.]

"Big Jaws and Needle Sunfish open the overlay network," said Ryoga. "Xyz Summon! _Empty-Space Sea Dragon, Leviair!_"

Both monsters disappeared to be replaced by a large winged serpent reptilian in form. Rather than interlocked scale, it possessed rich, teal, leathery skin, and two vast wings twice the size of its body. [**ATK 1800**/Rk. 3.]

"I haven't finished yet," he said. "Spell activation: _Marine Snow Seal!_ I banish Gagaga Magician from the field."

"What—" said Yuma. "_Gagagashield—_"

"Gagagashield prevents destruction by battle. Now the effect is gone."

Gagaga Magician screamed within a sudden icy snowstorm, then folded into itself and disappeared. Yuma placed the card in his pocket to remove it from the game. [Empty-Space Sea Dragon, Leviair: **Olu.** 2 → **1**.]

"I activate Leviair's effect," said Ryoga. "I detach a Material to special summon a banished monster to my field—and because I detached Needle Sunfish, Photon Wyvern loses 500 more attack points. Come to me, _Gagaga Magician!_"

When Yuma and Ryoga stopped at arms length to each other and Yuma handed Gagaga Magician across, the card was taken absently. Even after Gagaga Magician was summoned again, and the poisonous spines were lodged into Wyvern's flesh, Ryoga's attention was still on Kaito. [Photon Wyvern: **ATK** 2000 → **1500**; Gagaga Magician: **ATK 1500**/*4.]

And only on Kaito.

"I summon _Spear Shark_," he said. A small shark with orange flesh and the head of a large golden spear fixed on its snout appeared beside Gagaga Magician. [**ATK 1600**/*4.] Then both monsters began to glow. "I overlay these two level four monsters—_Xyz Summon!_ Tear the seas, _Bahamut Shark!_"

Yuma stepped back at fierce gusts of wind and ocean spray. Behind it stood Bahamut, a bipedal creature with rippling muscles and great dark claws. Two pairs of wings grew from its shoulders, too small for anything but assisting balance alongside a large finned tail. Purple highlights accentuated the contrast between cerulean and ivory, tribal markings with the sole purpose of intimidation. [**ATK 2600**/Rk. 4.]

"Bahamut's effect activates," said Ryoga. "By using an overlay unit, I can special summon an Xyz monster from my Extra Deck with a lower Rank."

Any thoughts stopped; it did not matter that it was Spear Shark that was detached and not Gagaga Magician, but—

Yuma's eyes widened. "Special summon from the Extra Deck?"

"Come; _Aero Shark!_"

A second underwater warship emerged through a veil of water, to take its place beside both Leviair and Bahamut. [**ATK 1900**/Rk. 3.]

"It has no Materials," said Kaito.

"That doesn't matter," said Ryoga. "You both have no set cards. There is only Photon Wyvern on the field. I have more than enough attack points to defeat you now."

Yuma checked the field. Leviair, 1800. Bahamut, 2600. Aero Shark, 1900. The fanged grin on Ryoga's expression sat not without reason.

"You lose, Tenjo. Battle! Bahamut Shark attacks Photon Wyvern; _Aqua Razor!_"

Bahamut tensed, for a fraction of a second, then lunged across the field with claws ready to swipe. Photon Wyvern attempted a dodge but its movements were sluggish and slow.

"I activate an effect from my hand," said Kaito. "By discarding Kuriphoton and paying 2000 life points, all damage this turn is reduced to zero."

A curtain of light washed across Kaito's field. Photon Wyvern faded away, Bahamut returned to its side of the field, and Kaito's life points went down.

**[ Shark: 3400 ] **- - - - - **[ Yuma: 4000 ] **- - - - - **[ Hunter: 400 ]**

Ryoga glared; Kaito smirked in turn.

"You misplayed," said Kaito.

The glare intensified. "Tch. I—still have two attacks. Leviair, Aero Shark – attack Tsukumo directly!"

Yuma tried to brace himself, to no avail. The first attack had him try to stand firm amidst rushing winds. The second attack sent him sprawling to the floor, and he tasted salt in his mouth that he hadn't noticed before.

**[ Shark: 3400 ] **- - - - - **[ Yuma: 300 ] **- - - - - **[ Hunter: 400 ]**

" 'Always attack first with monsters that have lower attack values'," said Kaito. "That is the rule. Had you followed that rule, Tsukumo would have lost."

"Don't fucking preach to me," said Ryoga.

"You waste our time."

"...I end my turn."

Two pairs of eyes trailed to Yuma then. Yuma almost took another step back at the force behind each gaze, and his own eyes flashed away from the duel in progress as he absently searched for a distraction. They settled on Mr. Heartland and the unknown man talking alone at the side of the room – one glance showed Orbital-7 behind Kaito, cheering the man on.

It was no longer a duel, but a match of wills and pride. No matter how much he searched within him, he couldn't find either. He did not exist within that space; it was not a battle in which he belonged.

"I... draw," he said.

He scanned his hand. It was a poor one. Had Ryoga detached Gagaga Magician, then he would have had more options than simply protecting what life he still had.

"I normal summon _Goblindbergh_," said Yuma. "Then I activate its effect, switching it to defence mode to special summon _Gagaga Kaiser_."

A bright red propeller plane flew from the portal to land in its monster card zone. The goblin turned the wheel so it came to a stop sideways, then another portal opened to allow a man in a long, white, fur-lined coat to step onto the field. Gagaga Kaiser swivelled to rest on one knee, tucking its gilded staff before its form. [Goblindbergh: **DEF 0**/*4; Gagaga Kaiser: **DEF 600**/*3.]

"One card facedown," he said. The image of his facedown appeared beside Gagagashield, still face-up but entirely useless. "Turn end."

Kaito drew.

"Kuriphoton's second effect activates," he said. "I discard _Photon Kaiser_ to add Kuriphoton to my hand."

He did so, without fuss and with vast efficiency.

"Spell activation: _Galaxy Zero_. I can special summon Photon Kaiser from my grave, but in exchange, it cannot activate its effects and cannot attack."

There was a loud crack, the splitting of the earth, the formation of a chasm in the ground stretching deep into the depths of the underworld. A knight in rich blue and gold armour made its way to the surface, then stood proudly atop it despite the unstable land beneath him. [**DEF 2800**/*8.]

Then the knight glowed and split into two.

"I treat Photon Kaiser as two Materials to open the overlay network."

"What?" said Yuma. "You just said that Galaxy Zero—"

"Galaxy Zero only prevents effects from activating," said Ryoga.

"...Continuous effects don't activate."

Kaito nodded. He raised an arm. "Xyz Summon; _No. 22: Unrebelling Strength/Fran Ken!_"

A grey shadow rose from within the swirl of runes; a giant, crouched into a foetal position. Powerful legs kicked out beneath the thick knit hung from its waist, and it unfurled to land on its feet. It was heavyset, barechested were it not for the gold and rich velvet corset across its abdomen. A small, beady eye was visible beneath the thick shawl across its shoulders, looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Then the pulsation of the Numbers: _22_.

**[ No. 22: Unrebelling Strength/Fran Ken: ATK 4500/Rk. 8 ]**

"Fran Ken attacks," said Kaito. "Crush _Bahamut Shark!_"

The swing of a massive fist, a shrill cry when it came into contact with Bahamut's exposed chest, then the WATER monster shattered and Ryoga stumbled back from the blow.

**[ Shark: 1500 ] **- - - - - **[ Yuma: 300 ] **- - - - - **[ Hunter: 400 ]**

"You no longer have any cards in your hand after using it last turn," said Kaito to Ryoga. "I set one card. Your move."

Ryoga picked off Gagaga Magician from his field and threw it to Yuma, who placed it in his grave. Teeth gritted, Ryoga drew.

His eyes flashed to the card. He plugged it into his D-Pad without hesitation.

"I activate _Seven Store!_" he said. "By tributing Leviair, I can draw one card. Then I draw another card because Big Jaws was attached as Xyz Material."

"A plus one," said Kaito. "Have you found what you wanted?"

Ryoga didn't answer. He merely glanced at the two new cards in his hand, then at his field.

Then, he called: "Aero Shark attacks Goblindbergh!"

"I activate _Half Unbreak_," said Yuma. "Goblindbergh's destruction is negated."

Aero Shark soared across the field; the goblin took cover behind a sphere of dark energy. The sphere buckled, warped, twisted, but Aero Shark couldn't get through. Unsuccessful, it retreated.

"Two cards facedown," said Ryoga. "Your move."

"My turn," said Yuma.

The conditions were right, now that Bahamut Shark was destroyed. He could win that turn. But when he made to draw, he froze. That was right; Kaito had said—

_His only role was to lose._

Ryoga was staring at him, eyes narrowed and unreadable but definitely not out of concern; Yuma only noticed when the man projected his image on a closer screen.

"Are you going to forfeit, Tsukumo?" asked Ryoga.

"I—"

"If you're going to forfeit, then forfeit now. I have a schedule to uphold."

"I..."

He never realised his fingers were atop his deck until he felt it beneath his fingertips. He froze. Just a few more centimetres, and his palm would be on top of his cards, and he'd resign, and then—

The deck pulsed, releasing a wave of energy. _Continue_, it said. _Duellists do not give up. Duellists never resign._

—then the memory of his father, _that this was his father's deck_, came to his mind. It was only borrowed. Not his, though he'd been using it for the past seven years.

There was a debt to repay.

"Kaito," said Yuma. "I'll figure out a way to give you Hope without needing a duel."

There was no reply.

"We can do that," said Yuma. "Right?"

"Make your decision," came Ryoga's voice, with the finality of _one last time_.

Yuma paused. Then he nodded, and drew.

"I activate Gagaga Kaiser's effect, banishing Gagaga Magician from my grave," he said.

Gagaga Kaiser flung out its staff, and absorbed the image of Gagaga Magician into the orb at the head. A violet aura washed across its form. [*****3 → ***4**.]

"Now the level 4 Gagaga Kaiser and my level 4 Goblindbergh open the overlay network." He threw out his arm. "Xyz Summon! Come, _Gagaga Gunman!_"

From the summon portal came a man in shiny leather with a myriad of silver buckles. A ragged red cloak churned in invisible wind, yet the fedora didn't move at all atop its head. [**DEF 2400**/Rk. 4.]

"Gagaga Gunman's effect activates: by detaching Goblindbergh, I can deal 800 points of damage."

The safety was clicked off both guns, and gloved fingers perched beside the triggers as Gagaga Gunman waited for commands. Yuma steeled himself for what he was about to do.

"Gagaga Gunman, my target is Kaito!"

Gagaga Gunman raised its sights, aimed, and fired.

"Chain," said Kaito, simply. He waved an arm. "Reverse card open: _Photon Void._ I discard Kuriphoton from my hand, and Gagaga Gunman's effect is negated."

A huge vortex of swirling black ink appeared behind him, before shooting forward to envelop the bullet in massive maws. Then it transformed into chains that tied Gagaga Gunman to the ground.

"Your motives are questionable," said Kaito. He turned away. "But I will deal with you later. End your turn."

"I... set two cards. Turn end."

"Draw," said Kaito. "You made three mistakes, Kamishiro."

Ryoga frowned. "Mistakes?"

"Your misplay," came the reply. "Your involvement in this duel, especially after your involvement with Haruto."

"Haruto?"

"Wait," said Yuma, "Ryoga never did anything to Haruto, I—"

Kaito's eyes narrowed. "Mistake number three: existing. I will fix this with my own hands."

"_Kaito_—_!_"

"You shut up!" Kaito spun to face Yuma, his expression that of nothing but hatred and disdain. "_You_ took him to Haruto—it's _your_ fault Haruto is the way he is now! _You aren't any better than this _fucking _bastard, Yuma!_"

Yuma faltered; that had been the first time he'd been called by name. Kaito looked to the field, and smiled.

"Summon!" he called. "_Photon Crusher._"

A warrior with flesh of radiant blue plasma stepped onto the field, garbed in rich, teal armour. [**ATK 2000**/*4.]

"Battle Phase. Finish him, Fran Ken; attack _Underwater Warship _– _Aero Shark!_"

"I activate my trap: _Super Water Pressure_," said Ryoga. "I destroy Aero Shark to draw one card."

He drew – then, upon seeing his hand, he smiled.

"It'll take more than that to defeat me," he said. "Next turn, you lose."

"Your next turn will never come," said Kaito. "Fran Ken's attack continues – _direct attack!_"

"I activate _Bubble Bringer_," said Ryoga. "The attack is negated."

Fran Ken retreated from the assault of bubbles leaving the art on the trap card. Kaito scowled.

"Just _die!_" he shouted. "Photon Crusher attacks directly!"

"I activate the second effect of Bubble Bringer," said Ryoga. "By sending it from my side of the field, I can special summon Needle Sunfish from the grave." Needle Sunfish emerged for the third time. [**DEF 100**/*3.] Ryoga's smile widened. "And like this, Needle Sunfish can be treated as two Material."

"You have another copy of Aero Shark."

"What duellist doesn't have multiple copies of their key cards?" Ryoga threw out his arm. "I'll be taking your Numbers."

"No," said Kaito. "Either way, you lose."

"You've only got 400 life points left, Tenjo. _I_ win."

"Photon Crusher attacks Needle Sunfish," said Kaito.

Ryoga snorted. "Of course. There's nothing more you can do."

"Then," Kaito continued, "in the Damage Step, I activate _Photon Trident_ from my hand."

"_Damage Step?_"

"Trident is a Quick-Play. Photon Crusher gains 700 attack until the End Phase, and if it inflicts battle damage I can destroy a card on the field," said Kaito.

"But you can't destroy Bubble Bringer," said Ryoga. "There won't be battle damage."

"...No," said Yuma. "There is, Ryoga."

"What?"

"Trident," said Kaito, "also lets Crusher deal Piercing damage."

Ryoga opened his mouth to speak. He closed it. Then he took a step back, away from the field. From its monster zone, Photon Crusher's staff disappeared to be replaced by a large, luminescent trident. [**ATK **2000 → **2700**.]

"This turn, if Photon Crusher attacks a defence position monster, the difference between the attack and defence points is inflicted as battle damage," said Kaito. "Needle Sunfish has 100 defence points. _You lose._"

"No... you—"

Yuma turned away when Crusher barrelled forward, trident held high above its head. He only heard a great scream; by the time he'd turned back, Ryoga was lying on the ground and his life points ticked down.

**[ Shark: 0 ] **- - - - - **[ Yuma: 300 ] **- - - - - **[ Hunter: 400 ]**

"_Salvage_," said Kaito.

He was referring to the card Ryoga had drawn with Super Water Pressure's effect, now lying on the ground yet too far for Yuma to clearly see.

"Next turn," he continued, "you return Needle Sunfish and Shark Suckers to your hand to Xyz into Aero Shark. Am I wrong?"

Ryoga propped himself up onto his arms.

"Tch," he said. "This isn't over. Battle Royal rules mean my graveyard is still in the game until I either go out of range or my D-Pad shuts down. I use Needle Sunfish's effect to lower Fran Ken's attack."

Fran Ken roared when the poisonous spines entered its skin and poison entered its veins, and Yuma could have sworn it looked to sag. [No. 22: Unrebelling Strength/Fran Ken: **ATK** 4500 → **4000**.]

"And I destroy the middle card set on Tsukumo's field from Trident's effect," said Kaito. "Crusher moves to defence mode."

Yuma grudgingly placed _Attack Invulnerability_ into his graveyard, just as the trident in its hands disappeared and it stooped down. [Photon Crusher: **DEF 0**/*4.]

Kaito scoffed. "Predictable."

"What—" began Yuma. He stopped as soon as he saw the outstretched arm pointed to Ryoga's chest.

The hand glowed.

"_Now,_" said Kaito, "as promised, your existence will be wiped away. _Let me take my prize_—"

"_Wait!_"

Yuma ran to stand between them. The scowl across Kaito's expression promised pain, but Yuma stood his ground.

"What do you want now, Tsukumo?" said Kaito.

"The duel's not over yet," said Yuma, arms outstretched. "If I win, you spare him."

Ryoga's voice came from behind: "I can take care of myself—"

"No," said Yuma. "You—"

Photon Mode became brighter; Yuma raised an arm to protect himself from the glare.

"Fine," said Kaito. "I will relish taking both of you together."

* * *

><p>— <strong>Photon Void<strong>  
>— [ <em>Spell  Quick-Play_ ]  
>When a monster's effect is activated on the field: Discard 1 "Photon" monster from your hand and target the monster; Negate the effects of the target until it is removed from the field. Destroy the target in your opponent's 2nd End Phase after this card's activation.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Did anyone expect that? It <em>does<em> get better... eventually. Please review~ :D**


	16. Chapter 16

**I've been waiting for this chapter ever since episode 33. Now it's here.**

**Going to take a break after this because I need to focus on my grades since I graduate next year. Yes, I suck, okay, I'm really, really sorry, but I'm not discontinuing this. Never. So enjoy this **_**reaaaaaaaally**_** long chapter stuffed with plenty of gooey plot goodness to make up for it in the meantime. **

**I'll be back maybe November-December 2013, if the Mayan Aliens don't get me first. ;)**

**Oh, I accidentally oops'd last chapter when I listed Photon Void's effect (now rectified), but you shouldn't need to go back since it'll be explained in story. Again, **_**huge**_** thanks to everyone who's stuck with Quasar until now! (It's not a very good story since it's actually a draft and I need to finish it, so;;;)**

* * *

><p><em>Ryoga's life points trickled down to zero.<em>

_"Now," said Kaito. "Let me take my prize—"_

_"The duel's not over yet," said Yuma. "If I win, you spare him."_

_..._

_"Fine. I will relish taking both of you together."_

* * *

><p>"I end my turn," said Kaito. "Orbital-7!"<p>

"Understood!"

Yuma looked behind Kaito, only to find that Orbital-7 was not there. Upon the sound of a body slumping to the ground, Yuma turned. Ryoga lay on the floor, unconscious, and Orbital-7 stood beside him.

Yuma turned back. "He didn't do anything," he said.

"He knew about Haruto," said Kaito.

Yuma's eyes widened in slow realisation.

"Is that it?" he asked. "Is _that_ why**—**"

"Is it working?"

Kaito did not speak to him but to Mr. Heartland to one side of the room. Mr. Heartland was leant over a console, viewing information impossible for Yuma to see.

"Yes," said Mr. Heartland. "Energy collection is far greater than what we anticipated!" Another screen opened before him, the old one closing and sliding away in a flash of light. "However, it seems that Astral energy collection has stopped entirely. Your end, Dr. Faker, sir?"

Mr. Heartland's gaze was followed beyond the canopy to the podium, where the man called Dr. Faker now stood. A soft hrum marked the spinning of a motor as it wound down a cord. The other end of the cord was threaded through a series of pulleys, then down the hole made by four solid steel walls welded to the floor. Slowly, a crate wrapped with cables was lifted past the walls and into the air where it could be seen.

The crate was empty.

"There's nothing left," said Dr. Faker. "Terminate the Astral connection."

Though buttons were pressed, nothing changed. But, a moment later, Yuma saw the faint shadow of someone familiar behind the bars.

"_...Astral?_"

He didn't mean to say the name. Even so, the shadow shifted, and there was a loud clang when the movement had the crate hit the walls.

"Quiet!" said Kaito.

The shadow stilled, obeyed. Then, eyelids were prised open to reveal heterochromatic white and gold. Astral's eyes, pleading for release from incomprehensible pain.

Yuma swivelled back to face Kaito and nearly tripped over Ryoga's body when he did so.

"Kaito!" Yuma took a few steps back to where he stood before. "Astral's dying! What's going on?"

"Take your turn," came the reply.

"But he's the Prince, isn't h**—**"

"Shut up."

"What**—**"

"Stop wasting time. Draw."

"No," said Yuma. "I've been trying to help Astral and you two for the past five years. _I deserve to know!_"

"You have done nothing but put Haruto's life further at risk!"

"Why are you so _obsessed_ with Haruto anyway?"

Kaito froze. He stiffened. The air around them suddenly became suffocating, and that otherworldly aura returned to bear fiercer and stronger. Yuma's instincts screamed. He'd just done something incredibly stupid.

He stepped back.

That was the wrong question.

"Haruto," said Kaito, slowly, "is my younger brother."

A pause. Then:

"And _Haruto_ is the Prince of the Astral World."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen:<strong>

"The Prince?" said Yuma. He blinked. "But you said Astral was the Prince."

"He lied."

Yuma turned around; Mr. Heartland had spoken. Now he began clapping as he walked closer to them.

"It was most likely because he presumed it was safer to not let you know," he continued. "Of course, he never expected for you to act the way you did. And the Astrals are a prideful race, aren't they?"

"We are in agreement," said Kaito. "You were never asked to reveal our secrets."

"No," said Mr. Heartland. "But that is common knowledge."

Yuma's heart sank. "Agreement?"

"Certainly," said Mr. Heartland. "But tell me: why do you think Heartland is round?"

Yuma blinked at the non-sequitur. "What?"

"Circles are perfect shapes. Yet, they are imperfect in land distribution. Like how a round cake cannot be evenly divided into cubes, a circular boundary creates havoc in urban planning."

"What are you getting at?"

"There is one distinct reason why Heartland is round, and that's because of what we have here."

Mr. Heartland tapped his foot on the ground, and inclined his head toward the podium. The tiny ball of energy between the two points hovered mockingly, phasing between the many shades of the visible spectrum in a distinctly familiar manner, and Yuma's eyes widened.

"No," he muttered. "No way..."

"Yes," said Mr. Heartland. "The walls of Heartland hide a particle accelerator."

* * *

><p>The door to the Tsukumo house opened, and Haru Tsukumo hesitantly looked outside. When she saw who their visitor was, she broke out into a beaming grin.<p>

"Kotori!" she exclaimed. The broom in her hands was put to the side. "It's been a while!"

Kotori smiled, removing her shoes with the ease of one in their own home. "Hi, Grandma Haru."

"How're your studies going? I heard you got an internship with Net News."

"I did," said Kotori. "Is Akari here?"

"Akari is here," said a third voice, and sure enough Akari was leaning on the doorframe. By the look of the sitting area, Akari had gotten out of the chair, having just been working at the table rather than the basement downstairs.

"Hello, Akari," said Kotori. "I wanted to confirm something."

Akari tucked her pen behind her ear so she could cross her arms. "What is it?"

"It's... about Yuma."

The collective tension around them suddenly increased. The jump was not unexpected, and Kotori allowed Akari to usher her into their home.

"Let's talk about it inside," was what Akari said.

"I'll go make some tea," said Grandma Haru.

Neither of them wanted to think about Yuma. That much, Kotori already knew.

Five minutes later she was seated at the table with a cup of steaming tea in one hand, Akari sitting across her, and Grandma Haru had shuffled her way up the stairs. None of them needed to ask where she had gone.

"So," said Akari. "What was it?"

"You went to visit Yuma, right?"

Akari nodded. "I did. He's still the stubborn idiot who doesn't want to leave."

"Actually," said Kotori, "he left."

"What? He said he wouldn't**—**" Akari frowned. "_Why?_"

"I don't know," Kotori admitted. "But he's gone."

"Where?"

"I couldn't find out."

There was the sound of a chair sliding back after Akari loosened her grip on the table's edge and sat back down. She scowled, then cracked her knuckles.

"That _idiot!_ Can't even make up his mind or**—**"

As she waited for Akari to calm down, Kotori glanced around. Nothing much had changed in the Tsukumo household since her memories of her first visit. But there were little things to mark the passing of time: a new vase by the stairs after Yuma had broken the old; the photos on the shelves were no longer of six-year-olds but eighteen. Graduation photos. In them, Yuma stood by himself, away, looking to the side as he always did despite the top of subject certificate in his hands. She stood near him but alone, with Sachi and Sei.

Kotori blinked when she spotted a photo of her and Yuma and Tetsuo when they were twelve, framed and tucked away in the corner.

In it, Yuma was smiling.

"Sorry," said Akari. Kotori turned back to face her. "I got carried away**—**I'm wasting your time. Did you have anything else you wanted to say?"

"Yes," said Kotori. "About the plane ticket, are you sure you didn't send it to me?"

There was a nod, though Akari's face was curious. "You haven't found out who it is?"

"No. I called the airline, several times... but, it was sent anonymously and I can't find out who."

"Suspicious," said Akari, slowly. "And perfect timing, too. Do you have it with you?"

Kotori nodded. She reached into the purse by her side, then handed the papers across. "I printed it."

" 'One return flight from Heartland City to Neo Domino...' " mumbled Akari, reading under her breath. " 'Use at any time... Anonymous voucher.' " Then she folded the papers in half and placed them on the table. "Thanks, Kotori. I'll see if I can find anything for you... but my report takes priority."

"That's alright," said Kotori. "I can wait. I mean, I've waited for Yuma for years."

Akari's face was unreadable when she escorted Kotori to the door.

"Hopefully," said Akari, "we won't have to wait for any more."

* * *

><p>"It can't be," said Yuma. "Particle accelerators are usually located out in the middle of nowhere, and are much larger. There's no way people wouldn't notice the electromagnetic field<strong>—<strong>"

"There _is_ one particle by the late Dr. Fudo," said Mr. Heartland. "And still in development by the current Dr. Fudo now."

Yuma stiffened as months of study rushed back to the forefront of his mind. "...The planetary particle, _yuseiryushi_."

"Bravo! Yes, the planetary particle. The key component in Dr. Fudo's Neo-Momentum; once it begins spinning, it spins without end."

"Then**—**"

"You didn't think the entire city could be powered from recycling trash and natural energy, did you? Momentum is the ultimate renewable energy. It renews itself." A smile. "And when spun sufficiently, it is possible to create cross-universal wormholes."

Yuma turned to Kaito. "So that's why," he said. "You want to get home."

"Every minute spent in this world is a minute longer that Haruto is in pain," said Kaito.

"Then if you've got Momentum," said Yuma, "why do you need the Numbers?"

It was Dr. Faker who replied. "An additional power source is required."

"Power source?" asked Yuma.

His eyes drifted across the room, searching for a generator or some form of energy store. Nothing struck out at him; there were only consoles stationed against the walls, far too slim to contain the energy that must have been necessary for cross-universal wormhole creation. The podium had no cords snaking out of the base, and the only large cables extending from the device led to a strange stone nearby, shaped like a plinth or a pedestal. It was empty.

When he followed the other cable, his eyes were drawn up to the cage – and realisation dawned again.

"You**—**" he began, slowly turning to face Kaito. "You're draining Astral's energy."

Kaito did not speak. Yuma read the answer in his eyes.

"Why, Kaito? He's still your friend**—**"

"Friend?" Kaito scoffed. "Don't make me laugh. He's just a solspirit with no form**—**a gatekeeper tasked to watch over the Numbers' Seal and _unable _to fulfil that_ fucking job!_"

"No," said Yuma. "I know you**—**"

"You know _nothing_."

Yuma opened his mouth to reply directly, but the finality in the words stopped him.

"You blame everyone except yourself," he couldn't help but say.

"I blame myself _far_ beyond your comprehension," came the reply. "This is their punishment. It is within judgement to destroy them."

"I won't let you," said Yuma. "I won't let you take Ryoga's soul when he never did anything wrong, Kaito, and I won't let you throw away the only friend that stayed."

Kaito scowled.

"Then make your move."

Yuma forced himself to forget the presence of both Mr. Heartland and Dr. Faker, and drew. He checked their life points, then the field.

**[ Shark: 0 ] - - - - - [ Yuma: 300 ] - - - - - [ Hunter: 400 ]**

Gagaga Gunman's effect was negated permanently. Photon Crusher sat on Kaito's field, with a tempting zero defence points. Yet, Fran Ken stood beside Crusher, and though it had been weakened, 4000 attack points was more than enough to finish him if he chose to strike at all.

He still had a trap set, but if only he still had Attack Invulnerability...

"I set a monster," he said. "My turn ends."

"Draw," said Kaito. He eyed his hand. "Spell activation: _Photon Sublimation_. I banish Kuriphoton and Photon Wyvern from my grave to draw two cards."

Two balls of light floated from the depths of the graveyard as he slipped the cards into the side of his Duel Disk. Then he drew again.

"Crusher goes to attack mode, and _Photon Spear_ is equipped."

Crusher rose to its feet, and a large, ornate spear materialised within its hands. [**ATK 2000**/*4.]

"Photon Spear allows the equipped monster to inflict Piercing damage," said Kaito.

"Piercing..."

"It's over. You run a deck of monsters with low stat values. _Battle!_ Photon Crusher attacks the set monster!"

Yuma glanced to Fran Ken, still standing stiffly, then down to his field. "I**—**chain. Reverse card open, _Transaction Summon_. It negates the battle damage by 500 points."

The trap which flipped up did not dissuade Crusher's attack, and it stabbed the facedown card effortlessly. The card dissolved to reveal _Ganbara Knight_'s 1800 defence points; the 200 points of red battle damage floating around the card floated across the field to float before Transaction Summon instead.

"After damage calculation, I can special summon a monster with 1000 or less attack points from my hand," said Yuma, just as he placed Ganbara Knight into his graveyard. "In exchange... until your next End Phase, your monsters can't be destroyed by battle."

"A foolish manoeuvre."

_Hopefully not. _"I summon _Gagaga Girl_." The red glow shifted to form a portal, then a bubbly girl emerged and twirled. [**DEF 800**/*3.] "Your move."

"Crusher goes to defence," said Kaito. "Fran Ken attacks Gagaga Girl."

Fran Ken lumbered across the field, moving to attack. When the shadow fell across her, Gagaga Girl shied away. Then, unexpectedly, Fran Ken froze. If it were even possible, even if it weren't, the monster was clearly hesitating.

Kaito's eyes narrowed. "_Attack._"

Fran Ken took a step away.

"I will not repeat myself again," said Kaito, voice low. "You will do as _I_ command. _Remember who is your master._"

For one last moment, Fran Ken didn't move. Then, pushing against invisible restraints, the massive fist swung forth toward Gagaga Girl's petite form. Gagaga Girl shrieked as she disappeared; when Fran Ken returned to its monster zone, it slumped down.

Yuma checked its stats – it was still in attack mode, with 4000 attack points. Kaito ignored it.

"Turn end," he said.

With a nod, Yuma drew. Of course Kaito recognised his strategy**—**rather than going for the useless Gagaga Gunman, it was far wiser to go for the monsters with levels to prevent him playing Xyz in the next turn.

He looked at the card he'd drawn, the only card in his hand, and almost fell from relief.

"I activate _Xyz Treasure_," he said, plugging the spell into his Duel Disk. "I can draw one card for each Xyz monster on the field."

Ignoring the burning sense of déjà vu, at his near-empty field and his reliance on the topdecked draw, he closed his eyes. There was far too much on the line.

_I'm not going to give up_, he thought. His fingers drifted across the top of his deck; he tried to focus his will. _Kattobing...!_

He drew.

_One: Gagagarevenge._

_Two_**—**

"I summon _Bull Blader_," said Yuma.

The dark bull in russet red armour leapt from the portal to land by Yuma's side. [**ATK 1600**/*4.]

"Bull Blader attacks Fran Ken!"

"Preferring suicide to resignation?" asked Kaito.

"No," said Yuma, risking a small smile. "Your cards might be immune to destruction by battle, but when Bull Blader attacks, I can destroy the opponent's monster without damage calculation. Go, Bull Blader**—**_Blade Rampage!_"

Bull Blader leapt into the air, brandishing the great sword within its hands, then the blade glowed a fiery orange as the monsters clashed. Bull Blader stepped back, satisfied. Yuma could have sworn that moments before the Fran Ken shattered, the shawl had slipped to reveal a small smile on the distorted face hidden beneath the folds.

"Main Phase two," said Yuma. "I activate Gagagarevenge, letting me summon Gagaga Kaiser from my grave."

A sweep of white coattails and a rich, dark cape, then Gagaga Kaiser descended to the field once more. [**ATK 1800**/*3.]

"Then I activate Gagaga Kaiser's effect again, banishing Ganbara Knight to become level four," said Yuma. He pocketed the card. "Now, Bull Blader and Gagaga Kaiser open the Overlay Network; _Xyz Summon!_"

Two orbs, both brown, morphed into an ugly purple the same shade as the sickening portal being etched into the floor. Dark, sinister. Wretched, unforgiving.

"Arise, _No. 39: King of Hopes _– _Hope!_"

The white crusader unfurled from its sealed form, a sight that would always lift Yuma's soul to see each and every time; an unexpected, noble purity from what was otherwise Pandora's box of hells.

Then the pulsation of the Numbers: _39_.

**[ No. 39: King of Hopes **– **Hope: ATK 2500/Rk. 4 ]**

"If the monster equipped with Gagagarevenge is used for an Xyz summon, the summoned monster gains 300 attack," continued Yuma. "My turn ends."

A radiant golden aura bloomed around Hope's form. Nonetheless, when the crusader touched down, it stumbled. The chains around Gagaga Gunman tightened, then the monster burst, destroyed. [No. 39: King of Hopes – Hope: **ATK** 2500 → **2800**.]

"What?" said Yuma, staring at where Gagaga Gunman had once been. Then he blinked when he realised that his need to stall the duel had him misplay the cards his deck gifted to him – though useless, Gagaga Gunman had still been on the field, thus it or Gagaga Kaiser could have attacked Crusher and then Kaito directly.

...He could only continue from there.

"The monster targeted by Photon Void is destroyed in your second End Phase after the card's activation," said Kaito. "Draw."

Kaito drew, yet he didn't move. He stood there, remaining silent for longer than normal, merely staring at the three cards in his hand without comment. Yuma had been about to ask him to hurry up when the nature of his déjà vu hit him. His hand was empty. His field, devoid of everything except Hope. It was almost as if Kaito was copying the duel only hours ago, as if he were emulating the situation to further highlight the failure.

And, as soon as the thought came and left, that was when Kaito decided. An arm was outstretched, pointing to the heavens**—**between his fingers was a single card. Photon Mode brightened. On the field, Photon Crusher transformed into a thick, white mist.

And then the card between his fingers began to glow.

"Photon Spear allows the equipped monster to be treated as two tributes," said Kaito. "I tribute the monster treated as two cards with 2000 or more attack on my side of the field!"

Seconds later, what was once mist accreted to an electric blue crystal embedded within amaranth blades. Kaito wrapped the fingers of his gloved hand around one of the blades, then, with strong shoulders, he lifted the structure and threw it spinning into the air.

"_Descend!_" he shouted. "The embodiment of light:_ Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon!_"

Yuma made the mistake of blinking when white light assaulted his senses; sheer, monolithic power reverberating around the room. His hair whipped within the vortex threatening to send him to the floor. His instincts rebelled, telling him to run, telling him to leave the duel behind, but his feet wouldn't move. The mere thought of moving his legs threatened to tip him past the edge of balance and into a realm of never ending pain.

When he finally opened his eyes, there was only the dark silhouette of a great, prideful beast amidst a blinding glare.

Then the being called Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon flexed powerful claws and roared with the might of millions.

**[ Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon: ATK 3000/*8 ]**

And Yuma could only stare.

"What the..."

"Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon," called Kaito. He swung an arm toward the middle of the field. "Attack No. 39; _Photon Stream of Destruction!_"

"I activate Hope's effect!" said Yuma. "By detaching an overlay unit, I can negate the attac**—**"

"_Useless!_"

"What**—**?"

"_I activate Galaxy-Eyes' effect,_" said Kaito. "The Chain begins! Galaxy-Eyes removes itself and the battling monster from play!"

Where Hope and Galaxy-Eyes once stood, twin starbursts flooded the room. The light somehow brightened white walls and heavy floodlights further. Yuma stepped back, though not entirely from the glare.

"Banish... your own monster?"

"No. 39 is not on the field, and its Materials are thus destroyed. You cannot chain to Galaxy-Eyes' effect now," said Kaito. "At the end of the Battle Phase, both monsters return to the field – and Galaxy-Eyes gains 500 attack for each Material that was removed."

"Incredible," breathed the voice of Mr. Heartland. Yuma jumped; he had forgotten the men were there. "Simply incredible. So this is a prince's power."

Both Galaxy-Eyes and Hope returned in another flash. Galaxy-Eyes landed with absolute precision, not a wasted movement in sight. But in contrast, Hope did more than stumble – it collapsed, a feeble shadow of the warrior it should have been. [Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon: **ATK** 3000 → **4000**.]

Yuma checked his field. Hope was still in attack mode, though it lost the 300 attack boost from Gagagarevenge to leave it with 2500.

That still should not have explained the situation.

"_Hope!_" Yuma fought against the power and took a hesitant step forward. "What's going on?"

Slowly, painfully, Hope craned its head, gesturing to the roof. Yuma looked up.

Hung from the domed ceiling, the canopy of cords loomed low over the field.

"The cords..." he muttered. They ignited something in his memory, something he'd seen moments ago, but what?

"Increase drain rate," said Kaito. Yuma looked down reflexively, but Kaito was not speaking to him. "There is still more energy to be retrieved."

Dr. Faker shook his head. "Impossible. That's as high as we can go. The catchment system is already on the verge of overloading."

"...Kaito," said Yuma. "These cords are like the ones around Astral's cage, aren't they?"

"That's none of your concern," came the distracted reply.

"But are they? Are you draining the Numbers' energy like how you're**—**"

"I set one card." Kaito faced Yuma again as the card was formed in his spell/trap zone. "Turn end."

Automatically, Yuma drew. The arm keeping Hope from falling slipped a few centimetres when he did so. It reminded Yuma of what he was there for and what cause he had to fight.

Ultimately, he could only hope his deck would forgive him for his mistakes and help him achieve that goal.

It was with reluctance that he looked at what he'd drawn, an incomparable pressure that this was his only card, would be his only resource other than Hope who had nothing but its ability to avoid destruction by battle; a Hope he had too much reliance on—

—he had 300 life points. Kaito would just use Galaxy-Eyes's effect to clear the field, then attack directly for game.

Yuma flipped over the card, the only card in his hand. At first, his heart sank.

Then his eyes widened as the duel replayed itself in his mind.

"Kaito," said Yuma. "Let me ask you something."

Kaito did not answer.

"Why are you doing this?" continued Yuma. "I know you want to go home, but why are you causing so much pain just so you can**—**"

"I said this before," said Kaito. "Shut up."

"But**—**"

"You still think you can win."

"I _can_ win," said Yuma. "I _know_ I can win."

"Make your move."

It was then that Yuma realised the subject had been changed, and that he hadn't been thinking as he'd reflexively replied.

"Hope goes to defence," he said, trying not to let his emotions appear on his face. The crusader did not move from its position, could not move, though its stats changed accordingly. [**DEF 2000**.] "I... set a card. Your turn."

Kaito drew.

And then he smiled.

"Any chance of winning you had is now gone," he said, simply.

"You can't say that until the end," came the reply. Yuma's tone, however, was faintly shaking.

"I know your deck, Tsukumo. I know your deck well. That set card you have is something to negate battle, in the hope that I will summon a monster and attack directly. Am I wrong?"

Yuma opened his mouth, then closed it silently. It was all the confirmation Kaito needed – and Kaito, unlike Yuma, had two cards in his hand.

"Spell activation: _Overlay Break_," said Kaito. "Then summon, _Plasma Ball_."

A green glow smothered Hope, causing the crusader to shudder. Yuma checked his Duel Disk – nothing had happened to its stats at all. A metallic sphere with plates of slate and ruby then emerged, and a baleful red eye stared across the field. [**ATK 900**/*3.]

As he was still at his Duel Disk, Yuma checked Plasma Ball's effect.

Any preoccupation of the green glow was instantly gone.

"...Plasma Ball can attack directly."

"Correct," said Kaito. "Now you have no choice but to use the card. Plasma Ball, _direct attack!_"

_You have no choice._

There _was_ no choice.

"Reverse card open!" shouted Yuma, and he threw an arm out over his side of the field. "_Trap Reborn!_ By halving my life points, I can banish a trap card from my opponent's graveyard to use its effect."

**[ Shark: 0 ] - - - - - [ Yuma: 150 ] - - - - - [ Hunter: 400 ]**

He flinched when his life points fell, but didn't let it affect him.

"Battle Royal rules are in play," he continued. "So I banish Poseidon Wave from Ryoga's graveyard**—**then I activate Poseidon Wave's effect, letting me negate the battle."

Plasma Ball, which had floated halfway across the field, was sent reeling back from a swell of sea and the relentless rush of waves.

Kaito was unfazed. "Galaxy-Eyes attacks No. 39!"

"What?" said Yuma. "There's no difference. Hope will just be banished and you'll lose the attack gain**—**"

"There _is_ a difference," said Kaito. "Other than sending all attached Material to the graveyard, Overlay Break negates an effect that would prevent the targeted card from being destroyed by battle."

This time, Galaxy-Eyes raised its head and flung back its arms. Wings flared with the light of infinite suns, and the beginnings of an energy beam formed between its two horns.

Yuma stepped back. "No..."

"Go; _Photon Stream of Destruction!_"

An incredible discharge of light and energy followed. The glare was impossible to see through, and Yuma could swear the tendrils which reached him were burning his skin upon contact. Yuma was forced to shield his eyes with both arms. Faintly he noted Mr. Heartland and Dr. Faker's voices, saying something, but the wind was deafening and any words could not be discerned.

As for Hope, the attack target, the crusader only screamed as chrome melted away in the blast. Armour with the appearance of flesh was distorted, melted, ripped from its supports. It was a full twenty seconds before the light dimmed enough for Yuma to send it to the grave. By that time, Hope was nothing but an unrecognisable skeleton curled atop the floor.

Yuma didn't want to look at Kaito. But in the end, he did. What he saw was not a Kaito he'd ever known, but a madman with coattails flapping in wind that was not there. His body glowed an ethereal white, his eyes glowed neon blue, and it should have been impossible for a person to emit so much light and radiance and sheer, pure energy.

...Nonetheless, Yuma was still alive.

The man that was not Kaito lifted an arm. "At this timing, I activate a trap!" he called.

Yuma froze, and a sense of dread entered his veins. "...what?"

"_Lineage of Destruction!_ If a defence position monster controlled by the opponent is destroyed, a level 8 monster I control can attack twice in that turn."

Shit.

It was not consciously that Yuma looked away from the trap rising on Kaito's field. His eyes ended up settling on Ryoga's unconscious form. From drugs, he had to remind himself, not from Kaito's doing, but it only emphasised the importance of winning the duel.

The duel he, with no cards on his field or in his hand, could not win.

_Shit._

"Go, Galaxy-Eyes!" shouted Kaito, and that light blazed brighter, bright enough to burn the retina. "_Hereditary Photon Destruction Stream!_"

Yuma raised his arms up as if he could defend against the blast. But nothing happened. He felt no pain. No light warred with his eyelids in an effort to peek inside, and no glare was there to greet him. Rather, when he cautiously cracked open his eyes, Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon was gone. A quick check showed that his D-Gazer had shut down as automatic safety settings severed the connection. Why they hadn't activated earlier, he didn't know.

There was no need to glance at the Duel Disk on his arm to know the score. 150 life points versus 4000 attack points meant a loss for sure.

"You will never understand, Tsukumo," came Kaito's voice, suddenly close.

Yuma snapped his head around to see Kaito nearing him, footsteps soundless beyond plausibility.

"You will _never_ understand the fucking sacrifices I've made for the past seventy-four years." Kaito raised an arm. "Now, _let me take your soul_**—**"

Abruptly, Kaito stopped. He turned, looked up; Yuma's gaze followed to a silver ventilation grill embedded within the ceiling that he hadn't noticed before.

"Show yourself," said Kaito to the grill, though his hand was still pointed in Yuma's direction.

That was when Yuma noticed it, a faint scuffling within the ventilation shaft's confines. Then a loud 'tch', a clatter of aluminium, before a foot appeared and kicked the grill to the ground. When it hit the linoleum floor, it's clanges created echoes like several pieces of metal falling rather than the one.

A dark blur leapt from the shaft; when it landed an instant later, a tall man in a long yellow coat unfurled from his crouch to shift on his feet. The man, with distinctive two-toned red and gold hair, glanced around the room with sharp purple eyes that almost seemed to glow.

"Of course," said Kaito. "I thought I sensed traces of the Varian."

"Well," said the stranger, his voice unexpectedly velvety and coarse despite the cynical edge, "fuck you too, Astral."

Mr. Heartland stepped forward. "IV?" he asked. "What are you doing**—**"

He broke off when a card flew past his throat. The card flew to the other end of the room, embedded within the wall. A thin line of red bloomed on Mr. Heartland's skin.

"I don't fucking want another word from you," said the man called IV. IV sent a glance toward Kaito, before crossing the room with large strides. He took a handful of the fabric at Mr. Heartland's neck in an instant too fast to comprehend, and twisted the folds. "You _bastard_, _using_ us all this time**—**"

"That's enough, IV."

Yuma's eyes widened at the familiar voice. He turned toward the doorway from where the voice originated. Sure enough, it was not only the voice and its inflections that resembled Victor Romani, but the long silver hair of the man entering the room.

But it was not Victor Romani. The eyes were harsher, the suits were gone to be replaced by a rich blue coat in a design much resembling IV's. The gait was purposeful, authoritative and absolutely self-assured.

IV noticed the new man as well. "...V. What do you want?"

"Follow the plan," said V.

IV scoffed, though he did set Mr. Heartland down. "Tch," he said. "Fucker deserves it." His eyes flashed. "And Astral."

There was no reply. As the two conversed, Yuma was the only person in the room in a position to see Kaito flexing his fingers. Then, in a single, instantaneous movement, Kaito threw his arm out toward IV.

IV was looking away.

"_Photon Hand!_"

A white light flickered around the palm, only briefly, then a glowing spear left Kaito's arm. It arched across the room like a bolt of lightning to enter IV's chest from behind. Even if IV had been looking toward Kaito at the time, there would still have not been enough time to avoid it. IV hit the ground, the collapse far too loud within the otherwise silent room.

Photon Hand. It was a sight which Yuma had only seen once before. It was not a memory he wished to endure.

However, Kaito stared at his hand and frowned.

"Impossible," he said. "How can a Varian..."

On the floor, IV's body – which should have been soulless – began to shake. And then, using nothing but his feet, it awkwardly dragged itself up so that it was standing.

And IV was laughing.

"Do you**—**" he began, but was forced to stop when a slew of chortles overcame his ability to speak. "Do you**—**_really_**—**think that's enough to stop me, _Astral? You can't do that_, Astral. What about your honour, _Astral_**—**"

"Stop calling him Astral," said Yuma.

Slowly, IV blinked. He stared at Yuma, as if just realising he was there.

"Oh," he said. "That's right. There's more. I guess it would get confusing if I called everyone 'human' too, I suppose."

"...What do you mean?" asked Yuma, cautiously, unsure if he wanted to know.

IV smirked. "He's as Astral as you are human."

"What**—**"

Kaito was not human.

Kaito was _not_ human. No matter how human he looked, or how human he seemed, he was not human. Their worlds were different, their societies, and Yuma was still trying to compare them to the human beliefs and values he knew. Even though they weren't.

Yuma had forgotten.

"Then," began Yuma, hesitantly, "you are... a Varian?"

He noted, absently, that V had moved to a console and begun typing. Dr. Faker and Mr. Heartland were out of his range of vision, though he had a slight suspicion that IV was supposed to be standing guard. Orbital-7 was nowhere to be seen.

IV made a non-committal sound.

"Shouldn't you be trying to help each other then?" said Yuma. "You're all from another world and all**—**"

"The Varian are _nothing_ compared to the Astral race," said Kaito, sharply.

"What?" said Yuma.

"Do not even _try_ to compare creation to destruction."

IV's eyes blazed. "Why you**—**"

He lunged.

But before he could go any further, his legs seemed to give way and he sprawled forward. There was a ripping noise, the sound of tearing cloth and something more, then IV's torso was lifted off the ground, drawn by an invisible force. Then the ripping could be heard again as sharp spikes rose out of his back like a cicada leaving its shell.

The spikes were great golden blades affixed to skeletal arms; when they unfurled they were easily five times the length of his body. They reared back, a spider preparing to attack, and IV opened eyes which had slipped closed.

They were no longer purple but gold, lacking pupils and black where white should have been.

"_Fucking_**—**_Astral_," he hissed. He tried to take a step forward, but the blades overbalanced him and forced him to stumble. "_I will _kill_ you._"

"Stand down, IV," said V, suddenly.

Yuma spun to see that V had stepped away from the console, Gazer Mark etched over one eye. He looked back in time to see that IV had turned enough for the split in his back to be seen. Blue blood pooled around the wound, slowly dripping down to the ground, and within the wound was a bundle of golden threads rather than any expected organs.

"_Fuck you_, _V!_" said IV. "_My fanservice_**—**"

"I will not repeat myself," said V. His hair rose as if to increase his size and authority, and he began to radiate more power than before. "Hamon. _Stand down._"

It was too late. IV had already turned back again and taken a shuddering step toward the centre of the room. Then he lashed forth, both blades aimed toward Kaito's torso. Yuma tried to shout, to warn him, but by that time Kaito had already leapt five metres back and landed daintily on the floor.

The blades hit the ground half a second later, tearing layers of linoleum and scoring through the bedrock below.

"Too slow," said Kaito. Then he flung out an arm. "_Orbital-7, to me!_"

"Understood!"

—and then Orbital-7 appeared from literally nowhere, though Yuma realised in the next moment that it had actually been disguised as a piece of equipment against the wall, and soared to Kaito's side. It was hard to see what Orbital-7 did next as a shower of sparks caught his attention.

Yuma looked up. IV's blades had ripped through the canopy of cords. Now it hung in two distinct pieces, sagging from the ceiling. Screeching alarms wailed through the room; the white floodlights in the room shifted to red, and in the corner of his eye he saw V spin back to the console in a wide arc of shiny hair.

There was a loud drone. Yuma searched for the source and ended up facing the device only metres away from him, sitting atop the podium in the centre of the room. It had once been a small ball of energy, idle; now it bloated at incredible speeds, the edges of the sphere barely touching the points to either side.

Then, unexpectedly, the particles no longer meandered without purpose. They began to take a path, moving so quickly that the Momentum was no longer kaleidoscopic but blazing white. Two sides of the sphere slowly pinched together. There was a loud snap**—**

—and the whirr changed pitch as the Momentum formed a large, distinct, glowing circuit suspended within the air.

—and then _his stomach flipped_, there was a blinding flash, _and__**—**_

—and then Yuma was in a plaza, in the midst of a rich galactic starfield of white lights atop an amethyst backdrop. He was facing a large plume of grey smoke, surrounded by the outline of many buildings he didn't know. They were not the round, squashed, deformed buildings of Heartland. They were more similar to the skyscrapers of Neo Domino, though nowhere as tall. A clock tower in the centre of the square proclaimed the time.

_**11:54 AM.**_

The smoke dissipated to reveal a duel, clearly three against one. The three had five monsters; Black Magician, Black Magician Girl, Elemental HERO Neos, Stardust Dragon, and a humanoid with green plating crouched in defence position. The other person had only a great yellow dragon at least ten times taller than a mortal man – and the duellist appeared to be standing atop its very being.

Amidst the starfield, and with poor eyesight, Yuma could not distinguish between colours to see who the wielders were.

Without warning, the Duel Disk on his arm slid into position. In that time, the duellist atop the dragon spotted Yuma there. When they spoke, it was with a distinctly masculine tone.

"_Infinity...?_"

Yuma didn't have time to answer. Engaged, his Duel Disk beeped twice.

_BATTLE ROYAL LOADED. _

_LP 4000. _

_DRAW._

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><p><strong>Please review~ :DD<strong>


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